Starcrossed
by Gatekat
Summary: G1 AU, Jazz/Prowl, Jazz/Vortex Jazz is the second creation of a Noble House that's fallen on hard times. He's promised as the subordinate mate to a wealthy commoner in exchange for a great deal of credits. It's only when he meets his future mate that things get bad.
1. Honor over Spark

It is recommended that you read this on Ao3 if you can. I update everything over there much more often, and it gets the complete stories, not the smut-stripped ones that show up here.  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909

Notes on the bottom. This is one of those graphic dark things I like to write with Vale.

**Starcrossed 1: Honor over Spark**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz squirmed in his seat as he listened to Duet drone on and on about the mathematical base that underlined musical theory as it related to advanced composition. His music tutor was well-learned and had an incredibly vast amount of knowledge to offer on the subject, but...he was _boring_. Jazz didn't want to think about numbers and ratios when it came to music, he simply wanted to _move_. But he couldn't do that, either - at least, not here. In a little while the lesson would end and he could show Prowl the new dance he'd choreographed, a mixture of the proper ballet he'd been attending all his life and a bit of the street performances he'd glimpsed before being quickly hustled away.

As soon as Prowl came to mind, Jazz's thoughts were far, far away from the lesson, which he absently recorded in the back of his processor in case of surprise questions while he allowed his primary attention to wander to the household seneschal.

Prowl was one of the very few mecha who actually treated Jazz as an individual with his own ideas and interests, instead of a noble to be served or a resource to be preserved until it became useful. Prowl listened to him when he talked, answered all of his questions honestly, and was always patient. Jazz tended to ramble when he found something interesting, and more often than not, he was shushed by his elders.

Prowl not only never shushed him, he actually listened and responded. Even though he was technically a member of the servant class, in Jazz's completely sheltered, largely isolated life, he was the only mech whom the young, second creation noble had ever thought of as a friend.

And he was strikingly attractive with a beautiful tenor voice that left Jazz feeling charged just to hear it. If it wasn't for the terms of the arranged bonding...

Jazz sighed to himself. A date had finally been set, three orns after his final adult upgrades. He was arranged to bond with the first creation of a commoner family recently come into immense wealth -_oligarchy_, he thought disdainfully. He was _nobility_, and his creators had made sure that he understood what that meant. He was a class above the rest.

They were old nobility, though, and as they had drifted further from the lines of royalty, so had their economic clout decreased as well. They were, for their class, considered poor. So Jazz was to bond to a commoner, and in return, his family would receive a hefty addition to their coffers. The commoner would then gain the social status that came from being the dominate mate to a noble, and his sparkline would join the nobility through the creations that Jazz bore him.

At least Prowl was also part of the exchange, along with several other of the family's highest-quality servants. Prowl was from a line of seneschals who were well known for their processor power and organizational skills, and as far as Jazz could remember, had always been part of the negotiations.

The arrangement had been made when Jazz was still a youngling, before any of his interfacing equipment or protocols had been installed, and part of the contract was that he be completely untouched in any kind of intimate way. Seals still intact, no knowledge of any intimate acts, no matter how tame. It meant he was escorted everywhere, never accompanied by less than two family attendants whenever he left their compounds, and when at home, he was walked from class to class, from meal to room, observed every klik of every joor, never left without the presence of at least one trusted member of the household staff, except when he was in his private quarters.

Jazz had never so much as kissed another mech. But he'd already had the interfacing systems installed, and lived with the desires that came with them.

And those desires all pointed at Prowl. He wanted the older mech, badly, and had, for a long time.

He sighed again. At least his creators trusted Prowl, which meant that Jazz could spend almost as much of his free time with him as he wanted.

On the down side, his creators trusted Prowl with good reason. The seneschal was proper, discrete, and always appropriate in his behavior with Jazz.

The sharp sting of a thin musical baton smacking the back of his wrist made Jazz wince and look up at Duet, who was standing over him, glaring.

"What was the last thing I said?" Duet asked.

"A proper harmonic is tertian in nature," Jazz repeated. He wasn't supposed to have the recording software that he did, for exactly the reasons he used it for, but he'd managed to get it installed anyway.

Duet gave him a suspicious look, but Jazz looked back with the innocent expression he had perfected a long time ago.

"Very good," the tutor finally said, and returned to his lecture while Jazz immediately returned to thinking about Prowl. As soon as the lesson was over, he quickly made his escape to the seneschal's office and the part of his orn that he actually looked forward to. The door opened automatically for him. He was, after all, Prowl's superior.

"Good afternoon, Jazz. How did your music theory lesson go?" Prowl's rich tenor washed over the young noble.

"Boring," Jazz sighed, dramatically, and walked around Prowl's desk and sat on the edge. "I'm much better now that I'm here," he said, quite honestly, and smiled at Prowl.

The elder mech smiled back, a small but honest curve of his lip plates. "Yet you still manage to learn."

"Because I have someone to impress," Jazz said, grinning back, and leaned over, looking curiously at the lists pulled up on the console. The movement brought him close enough to teek Prowl's very calm, relaxed field and feel Prowl teek him in return, their fields sliding past each other smoothly.

"Oh?" Prowl raised an optic ridge at the mechling that would soon be an adult. Perhaps once Jazz's bonded had enjoyed breaking his seals it would be permissible for the young lord to indulge with others. "You are already committed to a bonding that is unlikely to have your education continued. Why would you need to impress anyone?"

"Because you always seem to know everything there is," Jazz said, meeting Prowl's optics. "I have to be able to keep up with you."

Another small, genuine smile briefly graced Prowl's features. "It only seems that I know everything, Jazz. It is a matter of age, experience, function and special hardware. You do not need to impress me. You have your own gifts."

Jazz's field brightened considerably at the compliment. "I'm still pretty sure you know everything," he teased, then slipped off the desk and raised his arms up over his head, stretching out. "And I'm still going to try to impress you. Can I show you my new dance, if you're not too busy?"

"Of course," Prowl inclined his helm and dutifully focused on the young noble, though he attended to all the duties that he could without appearing distracted.

Jazz hummed happily and moved around the desk to the center of the room, stretching out the rest of the frame. "It's still new," he warned, then turned around, facing the door, and vented out slowly, relaxing for a moment, then raised his arms up over his head in a traditional ballet movement before swinging down and to the side, tossing his helm back and rolling it, bringing in the less traditional influences.

As he danced, he was intensely aware of Prowl's gaze, and it made his vents stutter slightly whenever he caught it, but he managed to stay focused enough to finish without faltering once. His dance instructor would have thrown a fit about it, but Prowl always watched silently and never insulted, and it was exhilarating.

He froze in the finish pose, then relaxed, and looked at Prowl, nervous and excited and expectant to see what the seneschal thought.

"You have developed a fine grace and sense for linking the forms," Prowl offered a complement he meant. Every moment of the dance had been recorded for later viewing pleasure. "Yes, Pirouette would be furious to witness your desecration of her art, however she is not here."

Jazz beamed and came forward to sink into the single other chair in the office across from the desk and turned sideways in it, relaxing. "Good thing too," he said. "I like that it's just you." He smiled warmly at Prowl.

"I do enjoy these private dances," Prowl throttled back the purr of his engine even as his optics slid along Jazz's elegant form. It was a frame that should have been indulging in pleasures every night, learning and exploring with age-mates. Instead Jazz could not even have friends for fear of him following the coding of the mechling upgrades and being intimate with another. "You are a pleasant distraction during my duties."

"I'm glad," Jazz said, honestly pleased. He was silent for a few moments, bouncing his pede up and down and watching it before looking back at Prowl. "So, Duet wouldn't tell me anything about abstract tonality, he said it wasn't traditional. I told him that everything wasn't traditional at one point but..."

Prowl couldn't keep the slight smile from his expression as he listened to the young noble chatter, occasionally adding his own response or answering a question. These were by far the most enjoyable joors of his shifts. It continued until Jazz had to prepare for the evening meal and reluctantly left before his carrier came looking for him.

Prowl allowed a small x-vent of equal parts relief and regret flow from his vents when the door finally closed behind Jazz, leaving him in the blessed and lonely quiet of his office. If Jazz had been promised to almost anyone else they wouldn't have to ghost around each other like this and Prowl wouldn't need to pretend not to feel what he felt. They could never be a couple, never be officially together, but it was acceptable by the nobility for Jazz to have a commoner plaything. It was a title Prowl would gladly endure, along with the shame it brought among his own class, if it meant he could be with Jazz, even for a while. He had no doubt that Jazz would have soon tired of him. It was the way of the nobility after all. Commoners were to be used and discarded, even skilled ones.

He couldn't count the number of servants who had returned to Primus by their own hand rather than be a burden on their descendents when they could no longer work for their keep. He had done his best to help, teaching them how to save up, or doing it for them. He knew in his spark that he would be one such mecha, though for entirely different reasons. He needed to work. Not for the credits, but for his sanity. He had to remain busy or his overclocked processors would loose touch with reality as they struggled for something to do by inventing it.

He'd watched his carrier's carrier extinguish that way, going mad. Watched his carrier begin down that road until he'd grasped what was happening and drove a charged vibro blade into his spark. As much as the loss hurt, Prowl knew his carrier had made the better choice for himself and those around him.

With a sharp shake of his helm Prowl pushed the thoughts aside. He was still relatively young with many centuries of productive functioning still in him. Perhaps, if he were truly lucky, the creation he bore to take his place in his next House would be sired by a mecha he liked well enough to kiss. He was truly grateful that this House had wanted as little influence from the sire of the last one as possible. Three orns of interfacing, of trying to _want_ a creation by the slave they'd rented, had been enough. He couldn't have been more grateful to see the mech go.

With a low growl he flagged all negative emotions to be deleted immediately and tried to settle into work as his meta smoothed out.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz's spark pulsed in his chest and he _knew_ his vents were too loud, but he couldn't get them to quiet. He just had to hope that no one heard.

He'd carefully facilitated an unscheduled shift in the arrangement of servants who always kept watch at his door-his family had agreed in the contract to keep a guard posted at all times-and was ducked around a corner, waiting for the mech he'd heard behind him in the hallway to pass by so he could continue on. If all went well, he'd be able to get back in the morning, undetected.

And before then...

His spark fluttered again and nothing he could do would control it. Preparations were beginning to take place for his move to Kaon, and even though Prowl was coming with him to the new House, Jazz wanted time with him _here_. And he'd heard rumors, whispered by the rest of the servants, that made him hope that maybe...

He tried once more, unsuccessfully, to calm himself before he slipped back into the hallway as quietly as he could. He'd never been to his destination before, but he'd always known where it was, and had imagined slipping off there more times than he could count.

He stopped when he reached the door, raised a hand to chime, then paused, and simply stepped forward, causing it to open automatically to him. He was, after all, a lord in his own House. He had every right to walk in.

Prowl looked up, startled by the sound and movement. He remained still however, his frame relaxed and propped up by pillows on his berth while he read. "Lord Jazz," he said carefully as he stood, more formal than he'd been with Jazz in ages.

The formality struck Jazz in a way that was unfamiliar to him and entirely unpleasant, but he shook it off quickly. "I..." he said, as the door closed behind him after another step. Everything he'd planned to say vanished with the click of the mag-lock, so he took the several strides forward to close the distance between them, moving with a confidence he did not feel.

"You should be in recharge, Lord Jazz," Prowl's frame stiffened, though he managed to stop the step back he wanted to take. Behaving appropriately in his office was one thing, but here, where he recharged, where he fantasized about the mech before him and pleasured himself? Where he even took lovers, pretending it was this mech with him?

"I'd rather be here," Jazz said, voice soft, close enough to touch now, easily close enough to teek. Confusion flitted over his face as he touched Prowl's field and found it a jumble of emotion he wasn't familiar enough with to decipher. He held a hand out towards Prowl's arm, brushing it lightly with his fingertips, trying to see if he could calm the other. "I _want_ to be here."

A low moan dragged itself from Prowl's chassis at the desire in Jazz's field and the touch. "You shouldn't be here," he managed to get out, his frame painfully stiff and still, afraid to move least he finish the motion his processor kept trying to send to his frame. "The contract..."

Emboldened by the moan, Jazz moved his hand up to Prowl's neck. "There are ways that don't leave signs, I _know_ there are. I hear the servants talking about them when they don't think I'm listening. And I've wanted you ever since I knew what wanting was, and I don't _care_ about some stupid contract!" Jazz inhaled and tried to calm his voice back down. "Prowl, _please._"

Prowl's lips parted, drawing in more air to cool racing systems, but he also drew in much more of the scent that was Jazz. "There are ways," he admittedly shakily. His coding was in a deadlock. Obey the higher ranking mecha, but to do so was to disobey one above Jazz. He wanted to comply, he didn't dare.

He did not dare.

"Lord Jazz, please, the contract. Your family, your future rests on you remaining untouched," Prowl whispered, trying to control the tremors in his frame and the treacherous arousal burning inside him. "When you bond he will _know_. It cannot be hidden from him."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Jazz asked, his voice a desperate, hoarse whisper. "You've never called me that! And I don't care, I'll figure out how to hide it, I'll do whatever I have to, just _please!_" He leaned in, trying to press their mouths together for a kiss. Prowl froze, then wrapped his arms around Jazz and kissed him back, shaking and afraid that he couldn't stop himself.

Eventually Prowl managed to pull back, his interface panels burning and cooling fans screaming. "Primus you're beautiful. Thinking of you was the only thing that kept me going when I kindled." He lowered his forehelm to touch Jazz's and rested there. "I can barely manage in my office some orns. Here, where I've _thought_ of you ... I need the distance of the title."

Jazz was still, dazed, feeling the friction charge still running over his lips in an entirely new sensation. He nodded in answer, and then carefully slid his hands onto Prowl's waist, every movement new and unfamiliar as he nudged gently with his helm. The kiss had, at least, quelled some of the desperation he'd been feeling, but it didn't make him want any less. "I want you," he whispered. "Before I have to..."

"You can't. We can't." Prowl trembled in the embrace, scrambling to write a shut-down code to drop himself into a timed stasis. Jazz's lips plates touched his again and he moaned into the contact, kissing back with all the passion he was trying to keep at bay. "Your Intended only wants the power you represent. He'll tire of you quickly. Once he's done with enjoying your newness to interfacing, you should be free to indulge as other nobles do."

Prowl shifted to rest his helm on Jazz's smooth shoulder. "The only other option is to escape, break the contract. You don't want to do that."

"I can't do that," Jazz said, sounding defeated, and rested his head against Prowl's. "I'm just so tired of waiting and I've wanted you for _so long_...I don't know how I'm going to last until then."

"Recharge with me for a few joors," Prowl whispered. "Shut down and let me tweak your coding. It should help enough. Once you've bonded, he'll know you've _wanted_ me, and haven't had me. I can't offer more."

Jazz nodded and followed Prowl to the berth, easily lying down with him. It was not how he had imagined being here, but it was still wonderful to finally, _finally_ curl up next to Prowl's warm frame and bask in the soothing glow of his field. He trusted Prowl implicitly, even if he didn't know why, and would allow Prowl any access to his processors that he asked for.

The touch to his medical port came as a surprise, but he spiraled it open at the request of the gently circling finger and nearly moaned at the intimate sensation of Prowl's processors slipping into his. As much as he wanted to remain aware for as long as he possibly could to soak in the feeling of _Prowl_, he didn't last another klik.

With a sigh of relief that at least Jazz was no longer broadcasting lust into his already unsteady systems, Prowl went to work on coding in light blocks on the emotions Jazz felt for him. It wasn't anything that would hold for long, or under extreme duress, but it should at least last the metacycle or two until Jazz's bonded was done with being possessive.

Fandom: Transformers G1 Historical AU  
Author: gatekat, Vaevade on LJ  
Pairings: Jazz/Prowl, Jazz/Vortex, Prowl/Vortex  
Rating: NC-17  
Codes: AU, Sticky, Spark, Bonding, Bondage, Rape, Sexual Torture, Snuff, S&M, Murder, Cannibalism, First time, Prostitution, PnP, Past Child Snuff, Genital Mutilation  
Summary: Jazz is the second creation of a Noble House that's fallen on hard times. He's promised as the subordinate mate to a wealthy commoner in exchange for a great deal of credits. It's only when he meets his future mate that things get bad.  
Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the inspirations page (gatekat-fics dot livejournal dot ) We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read.

FoC Vortex for looks (tfwiki dot net/w2/images2/e/ed/FOC_Vortex dot jpg)

nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
::text:: comm chatter  
~text~ hardline/bond chatter

Prompt: tfanonkink dot livejournal dot com/11776 dot html?thread=1221580812215808  
The header may sound a bit odd, but please stay with me. And yes, I know this is SO cliché but I want it anyway:

Bot A is betrothed to bot B. For reasons of *insert plot device here* this arrangement has been made without A getting a choice in the matter and he's very much not happy about it, but cannot get out of the deal (I'm thinking along the lines of feudal system AU here, but any plausible reason you can come up with is fine by me).

But of course A is in love with someone else. Be it an old friend, a servant, another member of his betrothed's family, I don't care as long as it's someone he would never have been allowed to bond to. What I want is a secret meeting between the two of them the night before A is supposed to be bonded to B, after which they'll probably not be able to see each other again, at least not privately. Problem is, A is a virgin and must remain so until he's bonded but he really wants this one intimate moment with his true love, and so they explore every possible way of having sex without really having sex. If that makes sense. How this is done depends on what kind of 'facing you go for (anything goes) and what kind of seal/proof of virginity has to remain intact, but a lot of touching and kissing is always a good start.

What I'm looking for a storm of emotions, passion, angst and desperation, the frustration from the clash between what they want to do and what they can't do. And both are doing their damndest to pleasure the other. So, um, angsty fluff and TLC? What happens afterwards is up to author, if told at all (a bittersweet goodbye / they decide to run off together / they are caught red-handed and the lover is forced to witness the bonding between A and B?). Any characters, any faction (OP is kinda partial to Jazz/Prowl and Mirage/Hound but will gladly read ANY pairing, including rare ones). I have no squicks so if you want to take some part of this to dark places then please do, but it's purely optional.


	2. Before the Bonding

For those who enjoy such things art/If-It-Looks-Like-a-Duck-338135889 is the inspiration for Jazz's look as a noble.  
New warning: Past child snuff (sexual murder)

**Starcrossed 2: Before the Bonding**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz watched idly out the window of the transport he was in, reclined back in his seat with his pedes pressed up against the back of the chair in front of him, helm pressed to the glass as he watched Kaon roll past.

It was nothing like Central City. Jazz's home was full of artisans and scientists who filled the city with breathtaking art and innovative technology. Mecha came from everywhere to visit, to learn about the history of one of the most influential cultural cities on the planet. Everything about Central City was built to cater and impress. His home was stunning, an architectural and technological wonder.

Kaon... was not. This city certainly wasn't built to impress, and Jazz doubted very much that it was inclined to cater, either. In fact, it seemed specifically designed to repulse.

He'd learned about Kaon's history and knew it was an industrial city, but that had done little to prepare him for what that would look like. It was...drab, Jazz finally decided, trying to be positive as he looking at the smog-hazed cityscape. And lifeless. There were no street performers on the corners, and the mecha he did see were larger and bulkier than he was accustomed to. He'd even seen several war builds, something he had never encountered outside of the guard his family employed, and they hadn't looked nearly this dangerous. His creators' guards were neatly polished and disciplined. They were heavily armored, but in a way that still allowed them to show a certain grace of form.

These mecha were heavy, bulky, looked designed to withstand almost anything. More than a few looked like they knew they could from first-hand experience.

Jazz shifted his optics down to look over his own body. He was finally feeling settled in his adult frame, though it had taken a little getting used to. That first look in a reflective glass…

He had gleaming white, delicate armor that hugged his slender protoform, but that was the same as it had always been. His helm had been upgraded, with another decorative chevron placed behind the first with a golden jewel placed in the middle. The sides had delicate trimming and were now etched with ornate symbols of his class and new House.

He held an arm out, looking at the bright blue and gold highlights that trimmed his armor and decorated his entire frame. Swirling patterns had been painted around his optics and down the sides of his face, accenting the delicate features. His lips were a pale gold, so pale it could hardly be seen against the white unless the light caught it just the right way. His mouth curved up in a private smile. He liked the way he looked, and Prowl had liked it too.

The seneschal hadn't said as much, but it wasn't hard to tell, especially now that Jazz knew his affection was returned. He offlined his optics and rested his helm back.

Just over a metacycle had passed since he'd snuck into Prowl's quarters, excited and impulsive, desperate for a taste of the older mech and unwilling to give in. The blocks Prowl had coded into his processor that night had helped with the desperation and impatience, but hadn't changed how deeply he wanted the other.

The fact that Prowl absolutely returned that feeling...

Jazz shivered, looking forward to a future when he could claim the seneschal as his right.

"I wish it was you breaking my seals," Jazz had whispered one day in Prowl's office. Forbidden words, from a noble to a servant, but he'd meant them. "If I could, it would be you."

Prowl had shivered, his engine giving a sharp whine of _want_. His reply still whispered through Jazz's processor, "It would have been my greatest honor."

After that night, Jazz had continued his visits to Prowl's office as always, talking with him about his day, his interests, whatever happened to cross through his processor. Sometimes, though, the talk had shifted to their future, full of soft exchanges of mutual desire, promises, shy admittances of how they'd both fantasized about this and what they imagined.

Jazz onlined his optics and looked back out the window. They were getting close to the new compounds. In the time it had taken him to fully mature, his Intended had gained his own grounds and palace. Jazz would bond to him, create with him, start his own House.

He was excited. Nervous, yes, and not sure about this city, but he was sure he could grow to enjoy life here.

And Prowl would be there with him.

There may have been many things he would have preferred to be different right now, but the future looked bright in the long run.

The confinement of close industry suddenly disappeared outside the window and Jazz sat up, watching as the grounds came into view. They were massive, with gardens that stretched out past the palace that sat in the middle. It was _giant_. Jazz tried to calm his pulsing spark as he stared at it. This was going to be _his_ House. His creations would have those entire grounds to play and grow in. And if everything went well, as soon as his Intended had verified that he was untouched and had enjoyed Jazz's newness, he would be able to take lovers as he pleased.

Yes, definitely bright in the long run.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

A different transport and what might as well have been a world away, Prowl also watched the grounds of his new House coming into view. Unlike Jazz, his thoughts were centered around what it would be like to run this compound, the new tasks and regulations he would be learning, but he was also considering his future with the young noble. Although not more than being his lover, Prowl was looking forward to securing opportune futures for Jazz's creations. His relationship with the young noble was different from what he'd had with his creators, and he knew that any advice offered would be happily accepted.

Prowl was good with numbers and making credits grow. He'd discovered a natural talent for it in helping other servants save as much as they could that seemed beyond what any of them were capable of. He'd watched his last House's finances decrease with completely unnecessary losses, leading them to the final desperate act of all but selling their second creation. Even though Prowl was the highest of his class, he was still too many steps below nobility to offer unsolicited advice on such a private matter.

They passed through the grounds and arrived at the front gates, and then the front entrance, where a small group of mecha was waiting. In the middle, a mid-sized mech, an ornately decorated rotor frame, surrounded by what looked like other members of the House.

Jazz's Intended.

Vortex.

Lord Vortex to the likes of Prowl.

He did not like what he'd learned of the rotor, his kin or acquaintances, professionally or privately. He'd made inquiries about his future lord, routine ones, and when the replies had been concerning, he'd pressed deeper through the ties he had in his class.

This House was one that lower class servants were warned to avoid. There were also more than a few suspicious incidents involving other commoners, and Vortex had been blacklisted by almost every courtesan who had financial records linking to him and by many of the pleasurebot houses as well. It just made Prowl all the more determined to watch out for Jazz and his creations.

The two transports landed in front of the gathering and Prowl disembarked, getting a good look at the mech in question, whose gaze swept over him and the rest of the servants who were gathering without a single pause before focusing on the first transport, without so much as a gesture of welcome or acknowledgement. Acceptable behavior from a lord in his House, though not something Prowl or the others were accustomed to. Prowl bowed his head subserviently nevertheless.

Vortex didn't even look. He was much too focused on the young noble who had just emerged.

Jazz was breathtaking in the sunlight, and Vortex was definitely taking notice of the slender frame, smaller than his in both height and mass. Jazz held his arms out and dipped his head while bringing his hands in over his spark in a perfectly-executed formal greeting, one that seemed specifically designed to highlight his grace and form. Jazz held in position while Vortex looked him up and down in a way that made Prowl's spark clench.

This wasn't the way one looked at one's Intended when first meeting him. It wasn't right on so many levels. Even the lowest servant knew how to behave better. Though he kept still and kept silent, there was no way those who knew him, which was the entire contingent that came in the two shuttles, could miss the tension and disapproval he was radiating.

If Prowl had the rank to do so, Vortex would have been on his knees, his rotors being twisted until he recited everything he'd done wrong. Brutal but efficient, it was a training method Prowl knew and used very well to instill discipline in rebellious youths. Only Vortex was not a youth and not of a rank that Prowl could discipline.

So he waited and watched with growing unease as Vortex's gaze turned decidedly pleased and downright greedy. This far away and from this angle, it was impossible to get a good read of Jazz's reaction, but the noble's frame was starting to tense as the silence dragged on and Vortex didn't answer the greeting with the appropriate words or movements.

"Welcome, I suppose," the rotor finally said. He didn't look like he was going to do more than that, and it was with some confusion and much hesitation that Jazz finally relaxed out of the pose.

"Intended," Jazz murmured, at least keeping up his half of the formalities.

"Sure," Vortex said, and then _leered_, optics focusing everywhere but Jazz's face as he continued to take in the shining frame. "And I'm sure I'll enjoy getting to know you." He waved a hand dismissively. "Someone will show you to the quarters you will use tonight. You can clean yourself up there." That same leer. "See you at the ceremony."

Vortex turned around and walked back inside while most of the mecha with him. Two remained, both servants, and one came up to Jazz with a warm smile. "If you will follow me, Lord Jazz," he said, bowing.

Jazz took a step forward, then paused as he turned around and sought out Prowl's gaze, looking uncertain of himself. The greeting had obviously thrown him.

Prowl did his best to give an encouraging wave of his doorwings before focusing on the servant before him. "I would have a brief tour of the estate, of what is not covered in the packet we received, before we are shown to our quarters."

After the tour of the areas of the estate that he would be primarily working in, Prowl was shown to his new quarters. They were simple and plain, and very small for a servant of his class, not that size was something Prowl cared about. His few personal belongings had already been delivered and he looked them over, making sure everything was accounted for, before heading to the servants' washracks. He could settle in later. Right now he wanted to heat away the ache of long travel.

There were several others already there. They weren't anyone Prowl had met personally, though he recognized one as the servant who had shown Jazz to his quarters. None of them were in the brief list he'd been given of mecha he would be working directly with.

Three were likely cleaners, from the looks of their frames, the personal aide who had shown Jazz in, and the last was definitely a hired pleasurebot.

"Did you see the new lord?" the aide asked, not concerned by Prowl's presence as the Praxian selected a showerhead and turned it on to a relatively high temperature.

"Shining bit of frame he's got," one of the cleaners grunted back. "You know how Lord Vortex likes that."

"And he's kind," the aide sighed. "Poor thing."

"Why?" Prowl asked politely, sure they were all aware he was there.

The pleasurebot glanced at the aide before looking back at Prowl. "The rumors are that he's untouched, yes? Still unbroken?"

"In other words, fresh energon for Master's berth," a different cleaner said, with an unpleasant grin.

"Yes, he is completely untouched," Prowl fixed the pleasurebot with a gaze that could make errant noble younglings quiet, then shifted it to the cleaner. "Do explain."

The grin didn't go away. "Well," he said, leaning his helm back under the water. "Put it this way... the entire estate can tell when Lord Vortex is breaking seals."

"And afterwards, how long does he keep a berthwarmer?" Prowl intentionally used the most degrading term he knew, just to see what kind of response it got. It should have caused a small verbal riot in any House that the servants cared about their Lord or his reputation.

The aide looked uncomfortable and glanced away while the cleaners snickered.

"It depends," the pleasurebot said, drawing Prowl's attention. "Most are lucky, and he'll only use for a short while, but the unbroken ones... it depends on how resilient they are."

"Then how long Lord Jazz appeals to him will depend on how long it takes to break his will," Prowl hummed. "What else does Lord Vortex like in his berth?"

The pleasurebot glanced at the aide again, not answering Prowl for a moment while their optics met. "You don't understand," she finally said, looking back. "It's not a matter of whether he still appeals to Lord Vortex, it's..." She trailed off, shifting her weight nervously.

The third in the group of cleaners snorted. "If they come in factory new, they don't leave until they're spare parts," he grunted. "Not a one. _Lord_ Vortex likes 'em new, doesn't like to share."

"And as for what else Lord Vortex likes..." the pleasurebot said, and shuddered. "You would do well to not catch his attention, good or bad." She looked back at the aide, who was trembling and had backed himself against the wall. "It might be different for Lord Jazz, since they're to be bonded," she offered, before going to the aide and running familiar, calming hands over his frame.

Prowl's focus shifted to the aide and softened. "I suspect I have a reasonable estimation if the reports I have access to are true. What catches his attention?"

"Mistakes," the aide said, slowly relaxing as the pleasurebot comforted him, but the waver was still in his voice as he spoke. "Definitely mistakes. Or being too pretty. Being in the same room as him when he's in a bad mood, or a good one..." He hesitated for a moment. "And do your best to keep off active duty when he has a gathering planned. If they so much as see you..."

Prowl inclined his helm in acceptance of the answer and permission for the aide to stop. "What are his tastes in pretty?"

"Lord Jazz certainly applies," the pleasurebot said, pausing in her soft trilling to answer. "You're not bad yourself, though a little big. He goes for smaller frames, usually." She hummed thoughtfully. "If you're worried and want to give some of yours a fair warning, he keeps records of most everything. They'll show the berthwarmers."

"Can hardly call 'em that if they don't even make it to the berth," the first cleaner joked.

The pleasurebot shot a sharp look his way that made the mech practically cower.

"Keeps the recordings for his _parties_," she said disdainfully. "They're in the public files, so visitors can access them. You don't want to watch more than a couple dozen nanokliks of any."

Prowl paused and filtered through the systems he was already logged into and found the public recordings. The first one looked like it was taken from a camera mounted high in the wall and showed a young servant, tied up and shivering on the floor. He was on his knees, helm to the floor, with his arms wrenched behind his back at an impossible looking angle that had almost certainly broken the shoulder joints. A bar connecting his ankles kept his legs spread wide.

Vortex appeared behind him and in moments, sank his claws into the mech's valve cover and ripped the piece completely off in a single tear, tossed it aside, then swung his hand back and slashed his claws over the exposed panel, shredding the softer metal.

It was all Prowl could take unprepared and he shut the recording off with a shudder. He'd known that Vortex was a sadist. It wasn't exactly a secret. But everyone had assumed that he was a sane one, a socially responsible one, the kind that took masochists, or at least paid very well for the services rendered. His gaze found the pleasurebot's. "Who do you serve here?"

"I am here for the pleasure of the servants," she murmured. "To help meet the needs of anyone who does not have another means of release."

Prowl inclined his helm to her, his doorwings giving respect to her profession and her duties. At least among the nobility, it was a respected function for the House to employ, a mark of wealth that they could afford to care for such needs of their servants. A quick search turned up her designation. "I am Prowl, Porcelain. If you would find the time to introduce yourself to those that came with me, I would appreciate it. None are currently mated."

Her optics brightened considerably and she inclined her helm. "I will be sure to do so, seneschal," she said, turning fully away from the calmed aide to face him. "And you? Shall I have the honor of your acquaintance?"

"Occasionally," Prowl decided. "Once I have settled and have time for diversions."

She smiled and settled back under the water. "I look forward to it." Her expression shifted and turned more serious. "Warn your mecha, do whatever possible to avoid attracting Lord Vortex's attention."

"I will. Thank you," he said as he began sending comm messages with the basics of what got the Lord's attention and links to the public files for what happened to those who failed. Then he pinged Jazz's comm with the special encryption he'd developed for them.

::Prowl,:: Jazz answered immediately, affection coming through strongly.

::We must meet, before the ceremony,:: Prowl replied, the strain and fear clear in his one as he finished his shower and began a walk of the grounds. ::Your Intended is not the mech we thought he was.::

There was a pause. ::Of course,:: Jazz said. ::These servants are not accustomed to keeping a watch on me, it will be easy to get past them.::

::Good,:: Prowl's relief was palatable even over the comm line. ::After midnight,:: he pinged a location, as well as the full security schematic of the estate. ::Be careful.::

::I will,:: Jazz promised, flickering with confusion and concern over Prowl's request. His voice softened. ::It has been too long since I've seen you.::

::I know,:: Prowl murmured. ::I will see you later.:: He added before closing the comm and working to make sure that what he had of the security network really was all of it.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

The corner of the garden grotto that Prowl had found was out of the way, sheltered from above and did not have harmonics that carried sound well. It was an easy place to be trapped, but right now that was a secondary concern. He had to _talk_ to Jazz first, and this time his presentation of an escape was not going to be an idle one to force the youth to think. It was a detailed plan meant to be acted on to save that youth's life.

Prowl lifted his head at a sound, alert, and moments later Jazz slipped into sight. He was decorated with symbols of his new House.

"Prowl," Jazz said, relieved to find him waiting, and closed the distance between them. He hadn't seen the seneschal in far too long and didn't hesitate to pull him into a kiss. Bonding be damned, he was at least going to have that much.

Prowl's vents hitched, nearly stalling, before he kissed back, hot and fiercely. White fingers rubbed against Jazz's dataport, asking for access. It spiraled open under his touch and Jazz made a quiet, surprised sound at the intensity coming off of Prowl. His hands came up to rest on the seneschal's chest. Prowl's focus was on the hardline connection, navigating the exchange of passwords and clearances until he felt secure.

His lips never leaving Jazz's while his hands moved along the beautiful chassis, Prowl uploaded several files for Jazz along with strong warnings of their contents.

~He'll never let another touch you,~ Prowl's pain was clear, but even more was his fear for Jazz over something that had nothing to do with _them_ and everything to do with Vortex.

Jazz's vents stalled immediately and his focus on the kiss faltered, and he pulled back, optics widening. ~But...~ He opened the first file, a summary of the conversation Prowl had had in the washracks, and horrified realization swept over him as he focused in on one fact, skipping right past everything else.

He would _never_ be allowed to have Prowl.

~You said-_you said!_~ he cried, hands shooting up to Prowl's shoulders and grabbing. ~Prowl-~ He pressed back into the kiss, frantic desperation and pure _want_ consuming his field as the blocks shattered. Everything he'd craved poured back out, his longing and need for Prowl rushing forward.

With the hardline already open, the emotions slammed into him and Prowl could barely think past responding to Jazz's desires. They were on the ground with Jazz's frame covered by his larger servant, feeling the heat beginning to burn inside Prowl as white hands frantically tried to answer Jazz's need.

~Once, just once,~ Jazz was begging, already responding to Prowl's touches as he tried to mimic the movements, his own hands faltering and catching in the unfamiliar act of running them down another mecha's frame. ~I'm sorry, I don't know-I'm not sure...~

~Let me,~ Prowl moaned, breaking the kiss to run his lips down Jazz's neck, licking and kissing the sensitive cabling while his fingers sought out gaps in Jazz's armor. He didn't care about his own pleasure, though he was feeling a great deal in feedback and it felt _good_.

Jazz whimpered in compliance and tilted his head back, exposing his neck fully, and shifted his hands to settle on the edges of Prowl's doorwings. He stroked up and down the smooth surfaces, wanting to do at least something for Prowl and hoping the doorwings would be sensitive enough. Prowl's glossa on his cabling was making it hard to think, hard to remember to keep moving his hands, and he realized more than once that they had stopped when he was able to focus past the unfamiliar haze of pleasure.

~Yes, it feels very good, my lovely, beautiful Jazz,~ Prowl whispered through the hardline. His hands settled on Jazz's hips for a brief moment before pressing into the large gaps the joints made. He was aware that his spike had extended fully and was tingling, pleading for contact, as was his exposed valve, but was determined that he would ask nothing of his lover.

~Good,~ Jazz gasped, his vents stalling out at the end of almost every intake as he squirmed and arched beneath the seneschal. His grip tightened and he moaned, his processor racing incomprehensibly as Prowl's fingers danced in his hips and his glossa stroked over heating plating. ~Good, good, Prowl, Primus this is good, don't stop...~

~I won't,~ Prowl promised, though he made the extra effort to mute Jazz's vocalizer for him. Then one hand moved away from a hip to bury itself in a wheel well, teasing and tweaking the suspension that had seen little use.

Jazz's body jerked up at the touch and his mouth fell open silently as he shivered, small lines of charge starting to build and shine beneath his plating. ~Wanted you for so long,~ he sent, one of the few thoughts he was able to pull. ~Wanted _this_, never thought-~ His thoughts scattered when Prowl's fingers _slid_ along a cable, then back down, and only the Praxian's firm hold on his voice kept him from crying out.

~It gets far better than this,~ Prowl's thought was a moan, his frame trembling with the building charge as he used everything he knew to draw out Jazz's bliss despite all the warnings that this was a bad idea, forbidden, would deactivate them both. ~Once a lover knows your frame. So much better.~ His thoughts swirled, carefully shielded from Jazz, about the difference between untouched and simply new to Vortex. The new eventually lost their luster and were left alone. He could make Jazz used goods in Vortex's optic. It would be the end of his spark, it might break the contract, shame the House his sparkline had served for generations, but it would save Jazz. Eventually.

~Better,~ Jazz echoed, all but lost and completely unaware of Prowl's thoughts as a surge of _want_ pushed through the hardline, wanting Prowl to know his frame, wanting Prowl to be his lover, wanting a future he could never have with an intensity that made him sob at the next slide of glossa.

Above him Prowl shuddered and moaned. It was a cruel thing, but he began to pulse energy into Jazz's systems over the hardline. It wasn't the connection normally used for pleasurable interfacing, but as wound up as Jazz was it gave Prowl enough of an edge to push his lover to the crest of his first overload and somehow maintain his own self-awareness.

The charge skyrocketed in Jazz's system and his fingers clenched down as he instinctively tried to fight the unfamiliar release, sending his processors spinning as he did while his senses reeled. ~Prowl,~ he whimpered. ~Is-~

~Let go,~ Prowl crooned. ~Let it happen.~

Jazz's helm slammed back into the ground and his mouth opened in a silenced scream that he still heard in his processors. He was lost to the running charge as it crackled over and through his frame, burning through him, making his plating lock and his protoform shudder.

It burned out too quickly and he slumped down, cooling vents kicking up as he tried to put his processor back into working order.

Over him Prowl kissed him gently and tried to relax despite the level of current ricocheting through his systems. It would be so very easy to overload right now, but he needed to cool down and get them to both think again.

~Jazz?~ he lightly prodded his lover, checking for awareness.

Jazz flickered a dazed, unsteady affirmative and onlined his optics after several tries. He looked up at Prowl as his systems continued to settle, and with fingers still shaking from the overload, wrapped around the back of Prowl's neck and pulled him down into another soft kiss that was returned eagerly.

~We _must_ escape. Run, hide, get away from here and that monster you're betrothed to,~ Prowl's tone was as firm as anything Jazz had ever heard.

Jazz pulled out of the kiss, his hazy post-overload bliss disappearing immediately. ~I _can't_,~ he said, despairing. ~You know the shame that would bring my family, they would lose _everything._~

~Look at what he's going to do to you, never letting another touch you, until he gutters your spark,~ Prowl pushed towards the video clips and the links to the full events in the main system.

Jazz cringed away from them and Prowl, shaking his helm desperately. ~He wasn't bonded to any of those mecha, it might be different for me, he wouldn't break a sparkbond like that, no one would!~

~You don't understand. He would. He gets off on pain. There are other vids where he kills while hardlined, screaming as he overloads on the death,~ Prowl's absolute terror at what he was sure was Jazz's fate rode every glyph, every link and memory that he desperately wanted to scrub from his processors. ~Your status won't protect you once he has an heir from you.~

Jazz froze. ~My family,~ he protested, weakly, clinging to Prowl and shaking as Prowl pushed forward a single frame of exactly what he'd described, making Jazz sob when he saw it, terror spiking through him.

~Your spark, your creation being raised by that monster,~ Prowl was shaking, his charge still too high to be easily controlled. ~I can get us away, keep us safe. At least long enough for this to settle. If we're caught, you were mechanapped.~

Jazz's optics shot to Prowl as the image of Vortex raising and teaching _his_ sparkling became all too vivid. It made him sick, and then the idea of carrying for him made it worse. His coding tangled in a deadlock-loyalty to his creators warring against protecting his creations. Prowl felt it, and with a decidedly guilty sensation, forced Jazz to look at another sequence. A small frame, screaming and thrashing as it was clawed apart, but that was just the setting. The warm-up. Suddenly it cut to Vortex driving his spike and overloading into the guttering spark chamber of the youngling.

Jazz choked in horror and his entire frame spasmed in pain just to see it, much less to imagine it as his own creation.

~I'll go with you,~ he whispered, shuddering, holding onto Prowl tightly.

A huge amount of tension unwound from Prowl's frame, which was all his arousal needed to push itself to the forefront of his awareness. Reluctantly he pushed himself up and moved to stand.

~Wait,~ Jazz said, grabbing his hand, making him pause. Decision made, the horror of what might have happened was starting to fade and he stared at Prowl with huge, bright optics. His processor was rapidly adapting to the sudden change and rewriting his expectancies for both the near and distant future. ~I'll go with you,~ he repeated, slowly, as the words solidified into a real, tangible idea. ~I can be _your_ lover, I can carry for _you_, you can...~ He paused as his optics moved over Prowl's frame, looking at him in a completely different perspective. They froze on the still-extended spike and his vents hitched. ~You can break my seals,~ he breathed.

Prowl trembled and knelt next to Jazz, lowering his helm to rest their forehelms together. ~Once we are away from here. It takes time to do it right. Time we don't have.~

~At least let me...~ Jazz said, and reached out, touching a single finger to the tip of Prowl's spike, circling once. ~Please? I can feel you still need to.~ His other hand moved up to touch the other end of the hardline on Prowl's frame.

~Yessss,~ Prowl moaned deeply, his hips rolling into the touch.

Jazz gave a soft, startled yelp at the reaction and quickly formed his fingers into a loose fist around the length, pushing himself up on his elbow. ~I-I don't know how,~ he stammered, apologetic, as he stroked once, optics darting back and forth between the spike and Prowl's face. The features he'd long considered beautiful were stunning now, relaxed in pleasure. Ice blue optics dimmed and shuttered, full lip plates parted.

~Won't take much,~ Prowl moaned, his engine revving higher as he leaned down to kiss Jazz, soft and supple, full of tender want and a promise for the future.

Jazz moaned in reply as Prowl's arousal and pleasure echoed back through to him and he repeated the motion while parting his lips for Prowl's gently prodding glossa, gasping softly when it met his and swirled, sending his processors spinning. With each stroke up and down, more of Prowl's enjoyment fed through the hardline and he sped up, encouraged, enjoying the way the warm metal tingled with charge under his fingers.

With a quiver and reluctant sound, Prowl disconnected the hardline pulled back, out of Jazz's hand and half turned away from him. "Against my back. Watch. You need to stay clean."

Jazz quickly shifted up to his knees and pressed his frame against Prowl's, chest to his back, and resting his chin on his shoulder while he brushed his fingers back and forth over the doorwings. Prowl's plating was hot and Jazz watched with bright optics, trembling and aroused just from the sight. Prowl shivered at the contact, the pleasure spiking just from the hands on his doorwings, before he remembered his spike.

A soft moan escaped the Praxian as he slid his hand down, rubbing his palm along the underside of his spike, before curling his fingers around the base and stroking upwards, then down. His hips rolled into his touch, the long-familiar pleasure-giver, and he gave himself over to the rising tide of the charge.

"You look incredible," Jazz whispered, one hand sliding down Prowl's back and slipping under the doorwing, stroking over Prowl's hip while the other continued to brush over the doorwing. His gaze never left Prowl's spike and the way the seneschal's hand moved over it, memorizing every stroke and movement as he pressed his lips to Prowl's neck and licked there.

It was more than Prowl could take and he moaned deeply, his frame stiffening as he arched back, pressing against Jazz as energy crackled across his frame, along his spike and through the thick, creamy-purple fluid that was ejected.

Jazz's optics focused sharply on the sight and he trembled as he felt the overload charge move over Prowl's frame. The sight kicked new coding to the front of his processor. "Want that," he moaned quietly. "Primus I want that, want you."

"Soon," Prowl whispered as he came down, still shaking. "I want to teach you about it all."

"Can't wait," Jazz murmured, lips still pressed to Prowl's neck. He exhaled shakily and drew more cool air in, moving away. "What do we do? How do we get out, just tell me what to do, I'll do it."

Prowl started to answer, but footfall from right behind them made their heads snap up and turn in time to see three estate guards come around the corner.

Jazz scrambled up, spark flaring in alarm and processor racing. He was a lord in this House, a noble by birth, and these mecha would-should-listen to him. They couldn't have seen anything. "On your way," he commanded, only long practice keeping his voice steady.

"Lord Vortex commands that you be escorted to your quarters and held there under guard," the large mech informed him even as the other two moved in on Prowl. While the Praxian had retracted and covered his spike, there was no denying the fresh transfluid evidence as they grabbed him.

"No!" Jazz gasped as they grabbed Prowl. He tried to step forward, but the guard who had spoken grabbed him from behind, gripping his upper arms and pulling back. "Release him!" Jazz said, struggling. "Let _go!_"

The guard growled and yanked him back, almost lifting him as he did. He was larger and easily stronger than Jazz and kept him restrained while they other two forced Prowl onto his knees and bound his wrists behind his back.

Jazz moaned as one of the guards drew a blaster from his subspace and held it to Prowl's helm.

"Let's go," the guard holding him said, and dragged Jazz away.

Jazz fought uselessly and was dragged around the corner, back into the gardens. "What are you going to do to him?"

"His fate will be Lord Vortex's pleasure," the guard said, and hefted Jazz up, slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him in.

::Jazz, this was my doing,:: Prowl's tone was firm, even an order, despite never having had close to that right. ::Remember that. I lured you. I did this. All of it.::

The comm line shut down before Jazz could respond and he slumped, not moving until he was tossed unceremoniously into his quarters and the doors shut with the click of a lock. He lay where he'd landed, shaking, as sobs started to escape him.


	3. Breaking Frames

Inspiration for Vortex's spike: (furaffinity dot net/view/5940133) lower one (NSFW - requires an account)  
Inspiration for Prowl's spike: (furaffinity dot net/view/8531340) (NSFW - requires an account)  
New warning: Genital mutilation

To read the complete chapter, head to Ao3  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1175494

**Starcrossed 3: Breaking Frames**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl kept his fear carefully to himself as the two guards dropped him to his knees on a dais in what he took to be Lord Vortex's berth chamber. It had a grand berth and it was part of the Lord's chambers, at any rate. He would have tried to escape but he'd already calculated the odds and it would only leave him injured for longer. He was pushed forward by a hand on the back of his neck while his arms were both yanked out and back.

It hurt, straining cables and gears, but he did his best to settle into the posture. There was no point to expending energy in struggle when there was no escape yet.

A door opened and heavy, measured steps entered the room, coming over to stop in front of Prowl. A dark, cold field washed over him and the low rumble of powerful engines filled the air.

"What made you think you could touch something of mine and get away with it?" Vortex asked, a growl behind the words.

There really wasn't a good answer to that, so he went with the truth. It wasn't as if he was likely to survive until dawn. "I calculated that it would not be discovered."

Claws grabbed his helm and pushed, forcing his head up and back further than it was designed to go, stretching the cables in his neck.

"You calculated wrong," Vortex snarled. "Nothing happens here that I am unaware of." He released his helm, snapping the head back down. "Tell me, what do you think will happen to you?"

"Tortured and deactivated, likely in a public execution," Prowl answered with the same even tone despite the fear trying to take hold. He did not want to hurt. He definitely did not want to deactivate.

Vortex chuckled darkly. "Eventually," he said, and stepped back. "First... oh, we're going to have so much fun before then. Bind him and get out," he snapped at the two guards.

They moved quickly, dragging Prowl up to his pedes and yanking his arms up over his head, fastening them into chains that had lowered from the ceiling. His ankles were locked into cuffs attached by a long bar, identical to the one he'd seen used in the videos on other victims, forcing his legs apart.

Task completed, the guards fled the room and Vortex stepped forward, looming over Prowl. He wrapped his hand around the right side of Prowl's neck, the tip of one claw resting on the spot where Jazz had licked and kissed while Prowl overloaded.

"Does he _care_ for you, or are you a plaything?" the rotor questioned.

"I don't know," Prowl admitted the truth no matter how much it hurt. He knew what Jazz had said, but there was no telling how real it was. Not at such a young age.

"And you?" came the next hiss as the claw began to dig in.

A small sound came out of Prowl as the pain began to register and he committed to protecting Jazz as much as he could. "I have wanted him since his mechling upgrade."

Vortex snarled at the words and sank the rest of his claws in. "A servant wanting his better," he mocked. "Pathetic. Almost as pathetic as him letting you _touch_ him." He twisted his hand and pulled it out, bringing a cluster of wires and torn plating with him.

Prowl screamed. He didn't spend the energy to resist. He didn't know how to shut down the feed from his sensors, but with the full attention of his processor directed at it, it didn't take him long to dull the pain to a dull throb and close off the fluid flows that had been ruptured.

"Oh, you're going to be a fun one," Vortex said with leer, watching him. "I'm going to strip away every part of you that he touched, everything you used to pleasure him." He grabbed Prowl around the neck and lifted up until the Praxian was dangling in his hold. "Starting with these," he snarled, then leaned in and sank sharpened denta around Prowl's lip plates, bit down and tore back, ripping them off in his mouth.

Ice blue optics blazed pure white and unseeingly bright with pain like Prowl had never experienced. Reflexes made him thrash, try to pull away, anything to escape the one who was hurting him. Even if he hadn't been bound it would have been ineffective. He wasn't built to take on a Kaonite.

Vortex watched silently until Prowl had recovered enough of himself to see again, then made a show of baring his denta in a grin, displaying the torn, energon-covered plating he held in his mouth before chewing it slowly, grinding the metal and licking his own lips as he swallowed. He brought Prowl back in and drew his glossa over the wounds, sucking at the energon there, then pressed his mouth to Prowl's audial. "And when we're all done with that, you'll watch me do the same to him."

"No!" Prowl couldn't stop the reflexive denial, a thoughtless demand that it not happen. "Not his fault."

"Yesss," Vortex hissed as his engines revved. "I need the status I'll gain by breeding him, and I don't have the time to wait for another hapless noble family to whore out their creation. That pretty bit of frame is _mine_, and I'm going to cleanse it of your filth."

Prowl engine growled, a sound that he didn't even recognize as his own. "Hurt him and you can't breed him."

"He _will_ kindle," Vortex snapped. "Even if he doesn't want to, I'll find something he wants badly enough, once I'm done breaking his spirit." A knowing sneer. "You, perhaps? Your life?" Vortex let go of Prowl's neck, letting him drop. "It's a shame, he didn't have to suffer this way. I needed him to like me well enough to drop a few heirs before I _really_ enjoyed him." He turned away with an exaggerated shrug, going to the wall and opening a compartment there. "But plans change, and this will be far more enjoyable." He turned back around, holding something Prowl didn't recognize, a short black cylinder. His grin was _hungry._ "I can't wait to hear him scream while I tear into his valve, can you?" He snapped his thumb up, and a low flame erupted out of the end of the tool.

Infrared informed him it was hot enough to melt thin plating and maybe half the wires in his frame, but not a lot more. That was an instrument meant to _hurt_, not kill. Scrambling, Prowl focused everything inward, even his optics dimming almost black as he found the controls to regulate sensor input and shut them down.

His entire frame went limp. Still conscious, but without sensor feed going in, his protocols refused to send commands out.

Vortex frowned as his victim went limp and snapped the torch back off, stalking over. He slapped Prowl across the face once, then harder, with claws, tearing through plating. Nothing.

He growled and pulled a cord from his wrist and shoved it into a jack on Prowl's neck. "Let's see what it's done, then," he muttered to himself while he pushed his awareness forward, forcing a link-up with the still mech. He slammed face first into some of the most complicated firewalls he'd ever encountered. So his plaything was fully aware, just not of his frame.

Vortex unplugged with a growl. Annoying, but he could have that fixed soon enough.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Prowl jerked back into connection with his frame with enough speed to catch the scream being torn from him by the sudden input. He knew there was a mech next to him speaking, but his processors were too tattered to make enough sense of it. He was sure it was the monster that had broken into his systems and made changes, then locked them in place. He still wasn't sure what the changes were, but obviously one was to turn his sensors back on.

Vortex's face loomed in front of him, taking up most of his visual feed. There was a huge grin on the rotor's face and his mouth was moving in speech that gradually became clearer.

"...happen again," Vortex finished, looking into Prowl's slowly focusing optics. He patted the facial plating where he'd torn through, sending fresh sensory input up to his victim's processor. Prowl flinched away, though the sob that joined it was more from the still-jumbled mess of his processors and the effort it took to pull his firewalls together. Spark-deep instinct demanded he protect them over his frame.

"You're dismissed," Vortex said to the hacker, who was unplugging from Prowl's neck. "Get out."

The small mech bowed and backed out of the room. Vortex couldn't be bothered to watch as he turned back to Prowl. He lifted the torch and flipped it back on, holding it in front of his optics. "Now... where were we?"

Pale ice blue optics focused on the torch, and Vortex could easily read what his victim was thinking. Face? Optics? Throat? Wheels? Interface panels? The list of places it could really, really hurt was extensive.

He grinned. Those would all come, eventually, but right now he had a very specific list to work through.

To read the rest of the chapter, head to Ao3  
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	4. Processor and Spark

To read the complete chapter, head to Ao3  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1182621

**Starcrossed 4: Processor and Spark**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jazz began to boot, one of the first things his processor registered as his motion sensors came online was the confusing reading that his body was rocking. His gyros kicked on and told him he was on his back, which was not where he'd fallen into recharge, which was disorientating enough on its own.

The sensory net was next and pain flared up, damage warnings that were growing more urgent as his injuries were left unrepaired. He heard his groan as his hearing came online a moment after his vocalizer, and last were his optics, showing a visual feed entirely taken up by dark plating.

Something _grated_ over his abdomen and Jazz cried out, barely noticing the final notices of the startup sequences that were telling him about new protocols that had been installed, integrated, and were now initiating.

He stilled as warmth swept over him, coming from everywhere that had previously been aching. It still ached, but...

The next slow rock and Jazz made a strangled noise at the confusing mix of rough pain and pricking heat.

To read the rest of the chapter, head to Ao3  
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	5. Celebration of Pain

To read the full chaper, head over to the Ao3 post  
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**Starcrossed 5: Celebration of Pain**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl booted slowly, allowing the medical sequence to run. He had no reason to contest it. He noted with only limited interest as all the repairs and new parts scrolled by on his HUD. He knew it all, but he read it anyway.

He was glad he did. He hadn't just been repaired.

Vocalizer: mechanimal grade. He wouldn't be speaking until he got out and repaired. His voice would never sound the same.

Comms. Completely removed. Not just disabled, but _gone_.

He did a quick check of specialized subsidiary systems. Systems that most mecha did not have, but as the seneschal to a noble House, he had them installed as part of his function. He smiled privately when they pinged back as fully functional. So Vortex's medic was not as skilled as they believed. Likely a gifted trauma surgeon, but not a full medic. Not good enough to recognize that seneschal systems included comms designed to mesh with the estate.

Very cautiously, he reached out with those systems to the estate he's barely had time enough to fully explore. His access still worked. Without turning on his optics or twitching, Prowl began his work. He needed a back door, access in case it ever occurred to Vortex to remove his legal access.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz sat on the berth, knees tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them while he watched Prowl and thought. The priest had tested and confirmed the sparkbond and left, saying nothing about the obvious changes and repairs made to Jazz's frame, and now he was gone from the estate. Jazz had been escorted back here, to find Prowl bound in much the same position as he'd been in earlier, but with heavier restraints.

Basic repairs had been done, melted pieces stripped and cheap plating slapped on to cover internal systems, nothing that could call itself armor. The helm was barely even shaped and the face... hardly anything was left of the striking features Jazz had loved. There was no way to tell what else had been done to him, if his processors were even still functioning or if he was nothing but a decorative piece. He was alive-Jazz had heard his systems booting up a while ago-but there had been no movement, no signs of consciousness. His tanks churned at the thought of a living frame with no processor to power it, and desperately prayed something was left of Prowl. He would get them out of here, he would figure something out, but he didn't think he had the resolve to do it alone.

Jazz watched Prowl's optics, desperate for even a flicker, scared to reach out to him, but as the silent, motionless kliks went by, his dread was increasing.

::Prowl?:: he finally asked, then started when the send was flagged as undeliverable. He tried again, same result. The receiving end of their encrypted comm link was gone. He sat up straight. "Prowl?" he asked, louder than he should have, forgetting about Vortex's cameras and recorders for a moment.

Ice blue optics flashed to life and Prowl's helm moved quickly to focus on that beloved voice. Meeting Jazz's optics, he nodded and tried to form 'yes' with his much reduced vocalizer. What came out was closer to turbo-hound's low greeting.

Jazz started at the sound, shifting forward, confused as much as he was relieved to see the optics on, but not sure what the noise meant. "Your comms are gone," he said, stating more than asking, glancing towards the door, irrationally afraid Vortex would simply appear there any moment. "I thought... But, do you still hurt?"

Prowl shook his helm. It wasn't entirely true. The level of rebuilding he'd required meant everything ached and would ache for several orns even under optimal conditions, but compared to what he now knew pain could mean, he wasn't hurting.

Jazz relaxed a little. He knew that wouldn't last, for either of them, but to have just a single pain free moment seemed like nothing less than a blessing right now. He drew his knees back up and huddled on the bed. He wanted to go to Prowl, touch him, feel him, soothe him, but the eye of the cameras felt like they were burning into him.

"I think," he whispered keeping his face angled away from them, "He's pleased with me. I thought he would kill the priest when he opened my spark chamber. Felt it through the bond." He shuddered. "Hate it. Like he's always there." He glanced up at Prowl, saw him watching, but the lack of any other response was starting to worry him. "Prowl?"

Prowl could only nod and make that low canid greeting again. He was aware. He was listening. He wanted to hear.

But Jazz was too focused on the sound. It wasn't Prowl, it wasn't Prowl's _voice_. "Are..." he started, then paused, reframed the question in his mind. "Is that still you?" he asked, dreading the answer.

Prowl nodded again, keeping optic contact.

"Can you talk?" Jazz asked, taking some comfort in the familiar gaze, the only thing unchanged in Prowl's appearance.

Prowl shook his helm.

"He doesn't need to talk, just scream," Vortex added as he walked in, golden optics sweeping across the room before he crossed to the berth and claimed a heated kiss from his bonded, all but forcing Jazz to his back.

Jazz didn't resist, tilted his head up to accept the kiss, quickly shifting Prowl to the side of his thoughts and focusing on Vortex. "Bonded," he murmured, as soon as Vortex released him enough to speak, trying to draw the rotor's attention completely to himself.

"You are not to speak to the toys. You are not to touch the toys. Understood?" Vortex rumbled.

Jazz winced and nodded. "I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching up to touch Vortex's jaw, running his fingers along its edge. "Forgive me?" he asked, spreading his legs open, a motion he'd noted that had, so far, always made the rotor's engines rev. This time was no different. He could feel it, though his field and through the bond, that he had Vortex's _undivided_ attention.

"You," Vortex claimed a hungry kiss and retracted his spike panel. "I'll forgive. Arouse me."

"Anything," Jazz breathed, slipping down under the protection of his traitorous second creation programming, the systems that craved conformation to his bonded's desires and were flaring up with the need to answer that command.

Jazz could have fought them if he'd wanted to. His were not nearly as strong as some, like the second creations in the highest nobility and royal families, whose bondings carried the weight of political allegiances and could incite war if mishandled. His were designed to help, to make him pleasing to his bonded and to take joy in pleasing, but he wasn't incapable of being independent of them, even if it would be a struggle. He could even disable them completely if he absolutely needed to, a failsafe in most coding like his own. Doing so would leave him damaged and traumatized, but alive. The failsafe was there to prevent mecha from being manipulated and harmed by those who would take advantage.

Vortex didn't need his programming to manipulate and harm him. Vortex had something so much better. Vortex had Prowl.

Right now, the coding was a tool to help Jazz lie to himself that he cared for this mech and wanted more than anything else to please him. He relaxed into a kiss, drawing Vortex down, and pushed a hand down the rotor's frame. When he couldn't reach the spike housing he broke the kiss and slid down to trace it with his fingers while pushing his hips further up.

Vortex lifted his frame up slightly and rumbled in approval of the touch. He could feel the honest desire in Jazz's field to please, and it wasn't driven by fear. It was an exotic thing, unnatural in Vortex's world, and he found himself craving it more than he cared to admit to.

Jazz felt it through the bond and in Vortex's field and allowed everything that was still left of _Jazz_ to slip away as he committed himself fully to the task and his enjoyment of it. His smaller engines purred in response and he used his free hand to stroke along plating edges in Vortex's chassis. His bonded was too heavily armored for him to dip into more sensitive wires from where he was, but Vortex still responded to the touch.

When his second hand joined the first on the housing, Jazz used them both to rub and caress, then slid down further so he could press his lips right over, parting them slightly and x-venting, remembering how good this had felt on him. His coding neatly blocked the memory of what had happened after that, leaving Jazz completely focused on his task. A low, deep moan was his reward, as was the roll of Vortex's hips into the touch.

To read the rest, head over to the Ao3 post  
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	6. Party Animals

This chapter contains graphic smut (I dare you to be surprised)  
Head to Ao3 for the full entry  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1204552

**Starcrossed 6: Party Animals**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz followed Vortex through the hallways of the estate, not meeting the optics of any of the mecha they passed by, mostly servants, a few relations of his bonded who also inhabited the large grounds. He was the Lord's bonded, a Lord himself, he was more than any of them. That was what Vortex wanted him to be, and so he was.

Right now he was going with Vortex to attend one of the rotor's gatherings. This one was being described as a post-bonding celebration, with the same mecha who attended the normal get togethers that Vortex hosted, for a small but dedicated community that was similarly inclined.

Sadists, and Vortex was at the center of it. Quickturn hadn't wanted to tell Jazz anything when he'd asked, and only answered when Jazz had pushed the questions as commands. Jazz knew the aide had been the "centerpiece" of one of these gatherings before, and as one of Vortex's personal aides, was one of his better sources of information.

Quickturn hadn't been happy to remember.

Jazz felt his spark flutter anxiously when they reached the door and he quickly calmed it back down before following in. Calming himself was getting easier to do with practice, but it happened more often than he would have liked.

The room was massive, a dungeon, lined on all sides with frightening looking tools. A variety of chairs and berths were strewn about, and several different energon dispensers, some that were designed to produce solid confections of the user's choosing. On the far wall was a screen, and in the middle, Prowl hung from his wrists, chin against his chest, pedes brushing against the floor.

Jazz's spark clenched. It had only been three orns since Vortex had first raped the Praxian and forced Jazz to overload from it, and Jazz hadn't been able to communicate with Prowl since. Vortex had barely left their quarters, and when he did, he'd brought Jazz with, making sure he was never alone. He'd taken Jazz enthusiastically at every chance, and had started talking about teaching Jazz to enjoy the things he did.

Jazz shuddered internally. No amount of coding could make him take the kind of joy Vortex did at another creature's pain. He would have to learn and pretend.

"Who is coming?" he asked, deliberately loud, wanting to let Prowl know he was there, desperate for any sign of life or communication from him. He didn't know if Prowl despised him now, or even if Prowl was even still himself. The wingless Praxian frame didn't so much as twitch, its optics still dark.

"Onslaught, Brawl, and Lockpick," Vortex answered.

They weren't designations Jazz knew on his own, though Quickturn had whispered them fearfully.

Jazz watched as Vortex frowned and he walked up to Prowl and grabbed the mech's chin, forcing him to look up. Pale optics flickered on, the expression behind them blank, almost empty. "Pathetic thing. I really expected you to last longer."

A low sound something like a rumbling growl echoed up from Prowl's chassis. His vocalizer was limited, but his frame-sounds, his engine, hadn't changed.

He was angry. Hurting, helpless, submissive, but angry.

Jazz tried to meet his gaze, not even sure if he wanted Prowl to acknowledge him. He felt guilty, and ugly, for the good repair he was in when Prowl was hurt and starving. Jazz had free access to energon, Prowl usually subsided on only as much was needed to keep him alive, poured down his throat through a tube shoved into his intake. For this particular occasion, he'd been given more than double what he usually received, in anticipation of the strain it would put him through.

Vortex liked having Prowl to play with, liked what it still did to Jazz when he tortured and raped him, _loved_ how Prowl cried when Jazz overloaded to his screams. Jazz hadn't figured out how to stop Vortex from sending his lust over the bond, hadn't even figured out how to start. He'd been trying as hard as he could, with no results.

He stepped forward, hoping the movement might catch Prowl's optic. He was given no such response. Prowl's focus was completely on Vortex. Before he could think of whether to try again, the door opened to a boisterous and very low-caste drawl.

Vortex glanced over, though he knew full well who it was without looking. "Brawl. It's good to see you. This pathetic creature needs to know how much worse it could be than as my toy."

"Does he now," Brawl said, walking forward. He stopped when he saw Jazz and eyed him up and down, engines rumbling appreciatively. "That's your noble, then?" he asked.

"It's Lord Jazz to you," Jazz snapped at him.

"Feisty," Brawl leered at him, completely unintimidated.

"_Mine_," Vortex hissed, rattling his rotor blades in warning.

Brawl cycled his optics in surprise, something that managed to make noise to Jazz's disbelief. Everything with this mech was _loud_. And annoying.

"Got it?" Vortex rumbled, rattling his rotors again in an effort to intimidate the larger, heavier and much meaner tank-former.

"I wouldn't let Brawl touch that one anyway. He'd never last an overload," a new voice rumbled as a convoy class mech entered with two heavy guns rising over his helm.

Primus, they were huge, Jazz thought, watching as Vortex stepped away from Prowl to join them. For the first time ever, and with the way Brawl kept glancing at him, he found himself grateful to have Vortex in the room. He shifted, putting the rotor frame in between himself and the tank, still watching the third addition, trying to decide about him.

"Oh, a new toy!" was the last joiner's greeting, and the door closed behind him, presumably by Vortex's command. A grounder, he was smaller than the others, somewhere between Jazz and Vortex in mass. He looked completely at ease to be in the company.

"Lockpick," Brawl rumbled. "Vortex won't let me play with the noble."

Lockpick threw a look Jazz's way, completely disinterested. "Who wants that?" he asked, his voice a high, grating sound, gaze sharpening on Prowl. "Not in chains, love a toy in chains."

"Vortex needs to keep the noble functional," Onslaught dismissed the tank's whining and zeroed in on Prowl, walking over. "At least for a few dozen vorns and a creation. But this one ... used to be Praxian?" he gave Vortex a glance even as his large hands ran along Prowl's frame, taking it in as a lover might, but with very different intent.

"And you got rid of his wings?" Lockpick pouted at Vortex after he nodded in confirmation to Onslaught. "But the wings are so fun to _hurt!_"

"The rest of him is fun to hurt too, I promise you," Vortex grinned, watching as the others stepped over to each get a feel of Prowl's frame. "Don't worry about being gentle, he's got an alert that'll summon Flatline if he's close to deactivating. No killing," he added, with a hard look at Brawl.

"Why?" Lockpick whined, his voice more grating than before if possible.

"Because he is mine," Vortex growled at the smaller mech as they all crowded around to paw at Prowl's frame, making the bound mech squirm and a small whine escape. "When _you_ host, you can set the limits."

That cheered Lockpick up immensely, and Vortex was sure he would find some guttersmech for just that purpose very soon.

"So you'd like to see what it would be like belonging to someone else, huh?" Brawl said, taking Prowl's head in hand and turning it towards him. "We'll make Vortex look like a turbo puppy if that's what you're after."

Jazz's spark sank. He had shifted as the group moved, always keeping closer to Vortex than any of the others, moving as silently as he could. He didn't dare bring attention to himself, not with that tank. Vortex would certainly try to protect his noble possession, but there was no guarantee he would win. Silent and still was his best option here.

Silent, still and...watching. Vortex had made threats Jazz didn't want to risk by not watching.

"No one could make Vortex look like a turbo puppy," Onslaught was commenting, behind Prowl now, examining the simple plating on his back.

"What first, what first?" Lockpick asked, quivering in excitement as he pushed flush against the Praxian. "Ohh so many choices, too much to do to its frame..."

"Spit him," Onslaught grinned directly at Brawl, pulling on the chains that gave way to him smoothly enough. Prowl all but fell forward against the green tank, his hips pulled back by Onslaught. "I see he hasn't learned much." He pressed his fingers along the edges of Prowl's valve cover and crushed it to get a purchase to pull it away while Prowl screamed and thrashed.

"No fun for me," Lockpick sulked, but his optics were bright as he watched the two larger mecha move to their knees with Prowl held between them.

"Don't worry," Vortex purred, then looked around for Jazz. He crooked a finger. "Come here, pet," he said.

Jazz didn't hesitate. He knew that tone.

... And thus begins the smut. Head over to Ao3 for the full chapter.  
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	7. Breaking Hidden Chains

Another smut-heavy chapter  
Head over to Ao3 for the full thing archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1214090

**Starcrossed 7: Breaking Hidden Chains**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peace. Finally.

He had no real grasp of how many times he'd been rebuilt, though he knew he could dig into his memories and find out.

He had no desire to.

Prowl gave no outward sign that he was aware, his systems as silent as he could make them. Vortex had not appeared in three orns. Three blissful orns of pain-free peace, quiet and uninterrupted time to hack his own code, make edits and begin to carefully infiltrate the estate's systems with tiny programs in anticipation of escape in the coming vorns.

Vorns.

Prowl's very spark shuddered at the reality that it was likely to take that long to escape. Yet vorns now was better than many more vorns if they attempted to run before the odds were in their favor. Prowl would not do that to Jazz. He had to be reasonably confident that when he told Jazz to run, they would make it. That meant credits, energon, supplies and contacts across Cybertron. A lot of credits for regular full-frame rebuilds for as long as Vortex still functioned, if not for their entire existences. The crimes they would have to commit to remain free were likely to be extensive.

With a metal shake Prowl turned his full focus to his work once more.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz knelt in the middle of the berth, optics dimmed to almost nothing, hands resting on his knees, unmoving. He'd been in that position for more than two joors, and in the stillness, his internal systems had grown nearly silent. A side program tracked their noise level and the amount of work they were doing at any given moment, comparing and recording, setting the most efficient and quiet combinations aside for later use and practice.

His x-vent was inaudible. His frame could have been a statue.

Jazz was practicing.

He had been bonded for almost three metacycles, and he still couldn't make even the slightest bit of headway in blocking the sparkbond. The puzzle was always running in the back of his processors, but for all the effort and thought, whenever he tested it, Vortex's presence loomed through, intrusive and demanding. He varied the ways in which he tested to avoid appearing too repetitive in his experimentation, sometimes choosing to step too close to Prowl, other times lying back on the berth and baring his valve, occasionally by dancing. Without fail, he would feel Vortex's attention sharpen and come through. He was beginning to despair of it even being possible. His access to the estate libraries was limited to fictional works, and even then only very tame ones. Nothing to learn from. It was maddening for the young noble who had spent so much of his life soaking up as much knowledge as he could, from whatever sources possible.

Provided they were interesting sources, Jazz thought with an internal smile as he remembered Duet for a moment.

Not everything was stalled as much as his attempts to block the bond, though. His field control had improved significantly, though it was still nowhere near flawless. The orns he spent sitting on the berth in careful meditation, monitoring his emotions while he relived memory after memory, had proven to be the most effective when it came to that.

He chose powerful memories, moments when he'd felt overwhelmed, almost unable to process everything he'd been feeling. The first night with Vortex and the terror he'd felt while trapped beneath the rotor's frame, saying goodbye to his creators for what he now believed may have been the last time, playing with age-mates as a youngling and laughing until he couldn't think, overloading beneath Prowl for the first and last time, sneaking into Prowl's quarters and kissing him, feeling everything returned when Prowl had kissed him back-

His field flickered. A slight frown marred Jazz's features for a moment as he analyzed the feeling that had caused it, and then he backed up and started over.

A text message pinged for his attention, set to a priority that only Vortex had, but listed as from Prowl.

_Download these files_

Three word-glyphs, and links to half a dozen files from the estate library.

The only outward reaction in Jazz's appearance as he read the sender's name was the brightening of his optics and their slight shift over to the Praxian's immobile form.

It wouldn't be the first time Vortex had tested him to see his reaction to something, to judge his obedience and loyalty. He'd been caught in the first of the traps, and Prowl had suffered for it.

Nothing like this, though. Jazz eyed the links, wondering if opening them would lead him into just one more snare, but before he had even fully finished the thought he knew he had to try. He couldn't ignore the possibility that they _were_ from Prowl. He opened the first and skimmed it.

When he saw the contents, he could not have stopped his shock from slamming out into his field even if he'd tried. His position faltered slightly and an alarm immediately chimed in his head, refusing to quiet until he'd regained complete immobility. He opened the rest, checking and confirming.

First and third hand accounts of warrior mecha who had blocked their non-warrior bondeds while in battle, for the safety of both. And more than that, the personal accounts of _how_, and one document on the technical theory behind it.

Jazz disengaged the motion alarm and carefully stretched, shifting so his face was away from any cameras, and looked directly at Prowl, optics narrowed and focused. The Praxian did not twitch, did not even indicate that he was alive except for the color on his frame, though he must have received the notice that the text had been opened. Maybe even that the links had been checked.

So Prowl could text him. And had some control over the network to give Jazz access to things he definitely should not have. That was not minor hacking as far as Jazz understood it.

Jazz focused back inward on the message and examined it, looking for anything else that might be hidden there, and found nothing. He shifted his attention to its pathway, looking for a way to trace it back. Coming from Vortex's command level, it had to have been rerouted through several encryption levels.

Jazz frowned. He didn't dare try to send a message in return, in case it went to Vortex instead, or the rotor noticed it on the way by.

Unless... Prowl had accounted for that, and set it up so Jazz could respond.

He selected reply, deleted the original and added a non-descript message that Vortex would have no reason to object to, should it go to him.

_Are you available now?_

The response was immediate.

_Yes. I'm looking at you._

As Jazz read the cryptic comment, Prowl powered up his optics and lifted his helm just enough to meet Jazz's optics for a brief moment before slipping back into the feigned stasis he was so good at.

Jazz bowed his head and clenched his fists, the only outward sign of the intensity of _everything_ that surged through him. It was disproportionate to such a brief moment of communication, but was the first they'd really had in the nearly three megacycles since Prowl's comms had been disabled. He felt himself shake, visible, and quickly stretched out fully onto the berth to hide it.

He'd been still and silent while watching so many atrocities, but in this moment, he was incapable. He took a calming intake and vented slowly, relaxing his frame, while dozens of replies were written and deleted.

_I'm adapting,_ he finally sent, head turned barely enough to look at Prowl.

_Good_

A single glyph, but one with many modifiers of affection, devotion, pride and determination.

Prowl, for all he'd been through in Jazz's designation, because of Jazz's weakness, still loved him deeply.

Even as he was grappling with that, he felt Vortex poke at their bond, intent and questioning at all the bursts of emotion he'd felt in the last klik.

Jazz swore silently and settled himself, then turned slightly onto his side and tilted his head back, trailing a hand down his neck and over the front of his body. ~Lonely,~ he trilled. ~Bored, thinking of you.~ While he answered, he pulled up the memory that had made his field flicker earlier, everything he'd felt when Prowl had kissed him, everything he was feeling now, and pushed it through, while quickly writing another message and sending it off.

_Vortex. Concentrating now. I will learn._

Vortex's interest sharpened, but there was wariness there.

Jazz sensed it, pushed his hand down to his pelvis and between his legs. ~So bored,~ he said, ~I've read everything here, nothing to do but this.~

~What would you like to have, to ease your boredom?~ Vortex pressed through the bond more firmly, but only felt what was happening in that moment, and that was most definitely Jazz wanting to play.

~Let me go out?~ Jazz asked, layering his voice with notes of mischievous intent, making it clear to Vortex the request was not serious if he did not want it to be.

~No.~

Jazz pouted visibly and flopped back on the bed. ~Then you will have to come to me,~ he said after a moment.

~I am busy.~

At one of his gatherings, with someone else hosting, so Vortex wasn't even on the estate grounds.

~Then I need a toy for when you're too busy to spike me,~ Jazz purred.

~You will record everything you do with it,~ Vortex insisted, the resonance in the bond making it clear that he enjoyed the idea.

~Of course,~ Jazz said, and arched his back, lifting his hips up off the berth and tracing his fingers around the valve panel. ~I'll do whatever you want, _need_ to do whatever you want.~

He felt how hard that revved his bonded up, both from the mental imagery Jazz was sending and the words.

~I'll get you some toys,~ Vortex purred. ~For now, you'll have to make do with your own frame.~

And thus begings the smut  
Head over to Ao3 for the rest archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1214090


	8. Learning to Kill

Chapter specific warning: Carrier Snuff

**Starcrossed 8: Learning to Kill**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't hard to watch, Jazz had seen far worse by now. When he had asked Vortex almost a vorn ago to teach him everything he enjoyed, Jazz could have never imagined the amount of technique and procedure involved in what the rotor did for pleasure.

He'd been shocked, horrified, repulsed, sick ... he had looked away knowing what the punishment for doing so was, and he'd lost almost his entire frame for it, had it flayed away with an electro-whip with the masochism protocols disengaged.

He hadn't looked away after that, but he'd been tempted, the first time he'd seen what Vortex was doing right now. He'd pulled this mech from the gutters and tortured him until he was almost deactivated before tearing his spark chamber open, cracking open the inner iris and laying it bare.

After that...

Jazz watched calmly, mostly through the mask he wore. The secondary personality profile, he mentally corrected himself. He'd read enough about it and now knew that was what he'd created while hiding from Vortex in those early orns. He had more control over it now, bringing it forward was less instinct and more choice. Prowl sent him a link about once every other orn to documents about it, accounts of subordinate personalities generated by adaptive coding becoming the primary profile. Jazz had memorized the process after the first reading, but dutifully opened them every time. He could understand Prowl's focus. They all said the same thing. The stronger the difference between the two profiles, the more likely the subordinate would become dominant if it was in control too often.

The mask, the adaptive construct, was happy to watch whatever Vortex enjoyed, so Jazz was happy to settle back and watch through its optics as Vortex drove his spike into the guttering spark. He didn't even find it hard to watch anymore, as Vortex overloaded and the spark flared and vanished

Vortex dropped the graying frame and looked up at Jazz with a savage grin. "Your turn."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz walked back to their quarters unescorted - though he knew Vortex watched him the entire time through surveillance cameras - and entered, not even pausing when he heard the mag-lock engage behind him. Prowl was in his usual place next to the berth and Jazz didn't look at him as he settled into his normal position

Vortex had never questioned this ritual, and Jazz doubted if he had ever even taken notice of it. He x-vented slowly, settling himself down into his memory, engaged his motion alerts, and prepared to relive the entire experience. First, though...

_I was able to dull what went over the bond._

_Excellent._ Prowl single glyph response was woven with modifiers for pride, relief and hopeful anticipation. Despite all that was written into the small message, his frame did not twitch, not even his optics. Part of that, Jazz knew, was a lack of energon. Prowl had to conserve every drop he could to maintain even the limited awareness he had for long.

Jazz was working on a way to get more energon to him. Vortex kept a constant watch on the cameras overseeing their quarters, but with time, his attention had grown less strict. He still kept the feed up, but only focused on it if there was significant movement.

Which meant he wouldn't notice a loop, if Jazz could figure out how to play one. He'd need access to the raw feed, and for that, he'd need the pathway. He'd been working on gaining Vortex's trust enough for just that. The rotor was paranoid. He'd never forgotten Jazz's resistance to him in the first orns. But what Vortex had been showing lately, and the things Jazz had felt coming over the bond while Jazz had obediently mimicked ... he thought he might have enough trust with one more demonstration.

_I'm going to ask for a guttersmech to kill._

_You can go through with it?_ Concern for Jazz, not his kill, laced through the glyphs.

_I just did. I can do it again._

Prowl was quiet for almost too long. Jazz waited for the argument, the cautioning, the reminder that every time he'd done this, it had been with the understood threat of punishment if he didn't comply. This would be Jazz initiating, condemning a spark as soon as he spoke. But it didn't come.

_Be careful._ was Prowl's eventual reply.

Jazz glanced over at him. _I will._ he sent, then dropped inwards and initiated the memory replay.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz waited in the playroom, walking around the walls, looking at all the tools that would be at his disposal. He planned to use very few of them, and he was trying to calculate which would gain him the most approval in Vortex's optics. Everything needed to be planned and perfectly executed, or this demonstration would mean nothing. He was _this close_ to breaking through the mistrust Vortex still held for him, and he didn't dare ask for any of the numerous favors he would need to help Prowl until he had it.

With luck, asking to kill in his bonded's name, for his bonded's pleasure, would be the extra push he needed. If the shine Vortex's optics had taken on when Jazz had asked was any indication, as long as Jazz performed well, he would have that and more.

Jazz's gaze wandered to the center of the room where the kill would happen. He'd killed already, but never on his own, never by request. Whoever Vortex brought in, the death would be on Jazz, and Jazz alone. Prowl hadn't stopped worrying on that point.

Jazz steeled himself. He could do this. He _would_ do this, and if it meant helping Prowl, he would enjoy it. His gaze sharpened and he watched the door, waiting, anticipating. He could feel the construction stir inside his processors, eager to be called on, eager for this and the approval it meant. Unlike Jazz, it had no morals that did not come from its bonded and it did not care.

The door opened with the movement of heavy plates and two guards stalked in, pulling as much as carrying the struggling victim between them. Non-descript and boxy as well as dirty and with the abused finish of one who hadn't seen a washrack in ages, and Jazz was grateful for it. It would have been so much harder if he'd managed a properly detailed Praxian. Jazz could see the golden optics of his bonded beyond them.

Jazz trilled a soft greeting to him as he watched the victim dragged across the room, expecting to see him strung up as Vortex preferred his kills to be, but the guards simply stopped and looked at him. Jazz stared back for a moment, then realized they were awaiting his instruction. A quick glance at Vortex showed he was being watched closely.

"By his wrists," Jazz said, gesturing carelessly.

The instruction was obeyed quickly and efficiently, and too soon, Jazz found himself locked in with Vortex and the victim, who was trashing against the chains with an energy that Jazz found surprising. The kills he'd seen, while not being without their desperation and pleading, hadn't been this _spirited._

Vortex purred as he watched the struggling, but stepped up to Jazz and kissed him with all the possessive passion in his frame until the slender noble all but melted in his grip. "All yours, bonded," he purred as he released Jazz. "Show me what you've learned."

Jazz hummed as Vortex stepped back and he turned to consider the victim. He already had a plan in mind, something that would take time and little physical effort on his part, cause excessive pain, and hopefully be symbolic enough for his bonded to enjoy. His optics found the wide, panicked stare, almost too white to tell their normal color was some shade of blue, but not quite. Jazz held them for a moment, reconciling himself with the fact that this creature, but for his asking, would have still been alive tomorrow.

"Flatline has prepared him?" he asked as he broke the gaze and strolled to the wall.

"He will remain aware," Vortex answered.

Jazz nodded once and selected his tool of choice. As soon as his fingers closed around the handle, he felt the bond _surge_ with anticipation. He tossed a grin over to his bonded, and flicked the torch on as he turned back to the strung-up mech and held the flame up for him to see.

"Please-no!" the mech pleaded as his field flared out in a panic. "My-my sparkling, I'll lose him!"

Because he was paying attention, Jazz caught a tiny flicker of surprise from Vortex before it was washed away in the savage joy of how much harder that would make this mech fight.

"Sparkling," Jazz repeated, staring, and didn't take his next step as creator-carrier coding flared up. Both the victim and Vortex focused in on his obvious pause.

"I'm carrying," the victim pleaded. "Five metacycles along. His designation is Skywatch. He loves it when I can see the moons."

Jazz felt frozen at the words, and he was intensely aware of the golden optics watching every move, and the looming threat that echoed over the sparkbond. He opened his mouth, tried to get something to come out, and met the victim's optics again as his resolve started to crumble.

White with terror.

Like Prowl's, when Vortex raped him, tortured him, mutilated him. Like Prowl's when he watched Jazz screaming in ecstasy to the sound of his pain. Like's Prowl's when Vortex offered him Jazz's frame as he struggled to say no, again and again.

Jazz's optics refocused and he took another step. Who was this mech to try to stop him from taking what he needed? He needed this kill to save Prowl, and this creature _dared_ beg him to spare him? Dared to presume his sparkling's life was worth more than Prowl's?

A snarl rose up in Jazz's throat as he made his slow approach. He couldn't stop, not now, and the carrier was trying to make it harder on him. Jazz wasn't going to let the efforts stop him. Too much rode on this kill. Prowl's life rode on this kill, and the carrier would have Jazz sacrifice Prowl to save his sparkling.

"Then he will burn as well," Jazz said in a low voice as he grabbed the mech's collar and held the flame at full intensity up to his neck.

The mech screamed until his vocalizer melted, leaving only his engine to scream for him. His field lashed out, desperate and panicking to try and draw out whatever mercy or sparking-protection protocols Jazz had.

Survival instinct and innate desire to please his bonded easily crushed any resistance those protocols might have offered and Jazz found it easier than he'd thought it would be to watch armor and exposed wiring melt away. He kept Prowl's face in his mind, basked in Vortex's heady approval, and took his time ruining the carrier's frame. Longer than he'd intended to, fueled by the rage that his kill had presumed to place its creation's worth above Prowl's.

Almost nothing visibly recognizable as a mech was left when Vortex finally stepped forward. The spark chamber was visible through the melted, mangled chassis, the light flickering dimly. That and the optics, which had long ago grown unfocused with pain and ceased to display sanity, were the only signs of life.

"Tear the armor away, expose his spark," the rotor purred, lust a blinding heat in his field. "Close your fist inside, feel the rush as it gives up."

Jazz obeyed automatically, setting the torch aside and reaching in, prying open warped plating that was still malleable from the heat. He ripped away the wiring surrounding the chamber and sank his fingers in, tearing what little protection the carrier's frame still offered away.

The spark shone in front of him, soft and weak, and Jazz felt his vents stall as he looked at it, transfixed. A hard surge from the field behind him struck out, shaking him from his stillness, and he pressed his hand into the light.

Energy rippled over his fingers as he closed them around the center and Jazz leaned forward, shivering as it washed over him. He looked up into the carrier's optics, saw them staring back with naked, uncontrolled horror, and he grinned.

The entire frame gave a hard shudder as the helm lolled back and Jazz started as the wash of energy over his hand increased in strength, then gasped when it flooded up through him. The light that had previously been so weak to the point of fading flared sharply and with a hard _crack_ the delicate inner plating of the chamber warped and shattered, and the energy ricocheted back out, consuming Jazz's vision completely as it flooded through him.

He couldn't have stopped the moan if he'd tried. It was almost enough to overload him on the spot when combined with Vortex's lust against his back.

"Good show," Vortex growled against his audial before pushing Jazz to the floor, his spike hard and hot against Jazz's valve cover. "You're so hot to watch. Most erotic thing _ever_."

Jazz lifted his hips up and snapped the cover back, pressing his helm to the ground and crying out as Vortex slammed in. The single thrust in was all it took to push Jazz completely over the edge and he screamed with his overload, writhing in Vortex's grip. His bonded was still thrusting into him when the overload faded enough for him to feel it, and the lust, desire and approval pouring over the bond was enough to quickly push Jazz's charge up again.

Primus that combination felt _good_. Jazz whined and arched into the driving spike as the relentless pounding from behind made everything else fade away until he was too far gone to even think.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

When Jazz rebooted, the first thing he was alerted to was a scrolling list of repairs for injuries he didn't remember receiving. New valve, repaired hip joints, replaced pelvic plates... the last thing he could remember was being held up from behind while Vortex... ah.

His external sensors finished booting up and he onlined his optics to see Prowl's darkened frame kneeling across from the berth and felt the deep rumbling from the rotor frame pressed up against his back. An arm was wrapped around his middle, with claws curled possessively around him. Jazz shifted back, curling against Vortex. The construct was purring, ecstatic at the response to its efforts and Jazz had to admit that it felt good to have the bond humming with such pleasure, approval and enjoyment.

He didn't keep tabs on how long Vortex recharged against him, but it wasn't that long before the rotor began to boot, pulling Jazz close and nuzzling him even before he was fully aware.

Jazz hummed, letting the vibrations ripple through him, and turned his helm to nuzzle in response as he murmured a soft greeting. The construct had him opening his valve cover, knowing how much Vortex liked it when he had a seal to break, and pushing his hips back.

"My pretty slut," Vortex mumbled, still half in recharge as his spike extended, and his boot sequence sped up so he could fully enjoy the pain and break and enjoyment the lovely creature with him had for it. He lifted himself and pushed Jazz to his back before claiming a kiss and driving forward, enjoying the resistance before it tore to his will.

Jazz tensed as he was filled and the new valve cycled eagerly around his bonded, then groaned as Vortex drew out, feeling the first of the injuries to the lining turn into a blissful heat. "My bonded," he murmured, pulsing soothing affection across the bond. "My only..." Jazz whimpered softly at the next roll of the rotor's hips into his.

"Your only anything," Vortex moaned as he thrust in, relishing the way the mech under him responded even more than the ones who screamed and begged. "Your reason to exist."

"Yesss," Jazz hissed, fingers coming up to Vortex's chest, running over it, touching and stroking every surface while he lifting his frame into the rotor's. "Yours, yours, only yours, always yours."

Vortex moaned, thrusting harder, faster, as the bond backed up those words. It felt amazing and he didn't hold himself back from the pleasure coiling and spreading through him to crackle over his frame and spill from his spike, deep inside the willing frame under him.

It made the white noble whine and shudder, triggered into his own overload from everything pushing over the sparkbond and through his valve. He held tightly to Vortex while they rode the waves out together, and as soon as it faded, was limp and purring on the berth. "Bonded," he murmured quietly, looking contentedly sated.

"You are learning," Vortex purred, the simple statement significant praise from him. He pulled out and reached for a cloth to clean up with rather than using Jazz. "I have meetings until late tonight. Entertain yourself. I'll watch the good bits when I have time."

Jazz stretched out under him and pushed his excitement at the thought of performing to the camera through the bond. "If you give me access to the cameras, I can make sure they're all good bits," he said, engines giving a soft rev as he dropped his voice to a husky whisper. "I want to know you can see everything when I'm playing."

Vortex's engine gave a hard rev and Jazz knew that he'd won. It didn't matter that Vortex had doubts on the wisdom of it. He'd worded it perfectly to get the rotor to comply. It was the first time he understood the concept that the subordinate mate could be the one actually in control at home. He'd long been told his carrier was the ruler, but he could never see it. Now, maybe, he understood a bit of why.

Instead of a verbal answer, Jazz was pinged with a set of codes and links.

He shifted up to press himself flush to Vortex and brush his mouth over the rotor's audial. "I'll put on such a good show, just you wait," he breathed, already running his fingers down his front to curl between his legs and touch his dripping valve that he'd never closed. He pushed them in and they came back glistening with lubricant and transfluid, and well aware that he had Vortex's rapt attention, settled himself back onto the berth and slipped just one finger between his lips, sucking it clean, never breaking optic contact.

"Yes, you will," Vortex rumbled, only barely able to tear his optics away so he could leave. It could have been a threat. With anyone else it would have been. But to Jazz, at least here and now, it was more a statement of belief than warning that he had better do so.

Jazz grinned as he watched the difficulty with which his bonded left the room, then rolled over enough to reach the box of toys next to the berth, and quickly accessed the cameras and adjusted the angle of his frame in accordance with the multiple feeds that covered every part of the berthroom.

Before anything else, he had to give the show as promised. He slipped the largest spike between his legs and moaned, giving physical control up to the secondary profile while his primary attention shifted back to start carefully examining the feeds for access points. Heavily encrypted, and with the tamper proofing of the truly paranoid, they were going to take a long time to figure out.

It was a good thing he had the entire day to work while his frame performed for Vortex.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was joors later when Jazz finally collapsed down onto the soiled berth and couldn't even summon the energy to refuel. He whimpered as he pulled the toy from his sore valve and slumped right there, exhausted from doing everything he could think of to stimulate himself for the cameras. He didn't know how many overloads, just that he'd been determined not to stop.

A little while later, he rolled onto his side, recovered enough to think about getting up and going to the energon dispenser but still not quite enough to get there. His processor was similarly spent and it was with reluctance that he backed away from the camera feeds. He'd stared at the coding for a long time, seeing only an indecipherable mess, before he'd shifted his mindset to look at it from a different perspective. That one had seemed more promising, but he was stuck again, so he was taking a break. He looked through one of the cameras at Prowl, not moving.

_I got the camera access._

Physically there was no reaction, but the reply came immediately.

_Good. Can you hack the feed?_

_Working on it. I._

Jazz shuddered suddenly, the rest of the message forgotten. The overload bliss was fading, and with it gone, his memory was returning and analyzing. With the pleasure-haze he'd been in since the moment the carrier's spark had gone out under his fingers, and with his attention on hacking the camera feeds, he hadn't had time to think about...

The memory of the carrier's voice was loud and clear enough that Jazz could have believed he was standing right next to the berth. _"His designation is Skywatch. He loves it when I can see the moons."_

Jazz pressed his helm into the berth. "Primus," he whispered, _prayed_.

_Jazz. What is wrong?_ Prowl's message pinged for his attention.

Jazz moaned and shook his head. "Hate me," he gasped, "Myself-I-" He cut himself off, remembering at the last moment that Vortex might hear everything he was saying, hoping none of it had been clear enough to understand, long past the point of worrying about the pain the rotor had to be feeling over the bond. He couldn't have controlled it even if he'd wanted to. His field flared out, distressed and chaotic, and he somehow managed to string together the glyphs for a single message.

_I killed a carrier._

_I am sorry._ Prowl's reply was simple but full of grief and understanding, and something Jazz wasn't expecting: taking much of the blame for himself.

Jazz shook his head again and curled with his arms around himself, sobbing into the berth. _Enjoyed it._

Prowl shivered very faintly. _Vortex must approve of your performance. You did well._

Jazz didn't-couldn't-answer after that as he shook and wept on the berth. He would hack the camera feeds, he would block the bond, he _had_ to. Using energy he didn't have, he turned back to the feeds, desperate to focus on anything, _anything_ else.

He didn't remember going offline, and he was only just barely aware of energon being tipped into his mouth as a much larger frame held him up, and by the time he returned to full awareness, Vortex was already filling him. He was on his side, one strong arm wrapped around him and holding him up, another keeping his leg pulled back while the rotor grunted behind him, rumbling his pleasure with Jazz, his kill, his display for the cameras. He didn't mention the breakdown he had to have felt over the bond, and it hadn't dulled his enthusiasm in the least, for which Jazz was grateful. He couldn't lose the progress he'd made with that kill, couldn't let the carrier's spark go to waste.

Jazz let his awareness drift blissfully away after Vortex's third overload, more than happy to let the secondary profile take complete control while he faded back, trying to stop hearing the carrier's voice and seeing a sparkling looking at moons.


	9. Freedom at a Cost

Replace the space with a . for the URL. Another chapter to read on Ao3  
archiveofourown org/works/637909/chapters/1235899

**Starcrossed 9: Freedom at a Cost**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz knelt on the berth, motionless, optics dimmed while he concentrated on the video feeds. One of the first things he'd managed to do was find the access codes and links to the rest of the Vortex's private surveillance, the cameras that weren't hooked up with the rest of the estate security. While looking through them, he'd found one pointed right at the small grotto where Prowl had been taken. They had never been hidden.

Jazz had made sure Prowl had access to Vortex's security systems, but the Praxian was still locked out from doing anything more than observing, since the system only recognized Jazz and Vortex and had a paranoid security that even the seneschal systems couldn't hook up with.

Accessing the entire network had been easy. What was taking him longer to do was actually manipulating the video feeds in order to override the live image with a loop to provide cover for movement. He was close, though. As a youngling, and later as a mechling, he had been a great frustration to his tutors with his tendency to look at things differently than how they were presented to him. A young noble was supposed to nod and memorize, and think how he was instructed to think, but Jazz had always wanted to know _why_ and _how_ and delighted in seeing how things could change when simply approached from a new angle.

A very small smile twitched across his features as one more level of security fell away. His tutors had called it impertinence, Prowl had called it creative genius.

His field held perfectly steady, even as close as he was to his goal, and the excitement surging through him didn't move over the sparkbond. If Vortex chose to look he would feel it there, but he had no reason to. Jazz had realized that hiding in plain sight was one of the most effective covers available to him. If he was still, Vortex never had any reason to check on the sparkbond, something that the rotor had no real interest in, and Jazz only had to make sure he didn't send anything.

One more shift, and the opening he was looking for became clear. The smile grew wider and Jazz brushed away the last layer, and the raw feed lay in front of him. He already had a replacement feed set up, one of him sitting still on the berth, and slipped it in with a loop command. He held the loop and the live feed up together and compared them for any differences, double checked that Vortex was receiving the loop, and raised his arms over his head in a slow stretch.

The live feed showed it, the loop didn't change.

Jazz turned his head to look right at Prowl. _Check the cameras,_ he sent, then slid off the berth, optics powering up fully as he stood up, stretching fully.

There was a very long pause, a full klik, and several small movements by the Praxian before Prowl responded.

_I can find no indicators that it is a loop._

Jazz slumped with relief and walked straight over to Prowl, and, being as mindful as he could of the recent repairs and fresh injuries covering the other's frame, slid his hands onto either side of Prowl's face and touched their helms together, x-venting slowly and stilling.

Prowl trembled at the first gentle touch he'd felt in over a vorn and leaned into it, almost falling forward into it with a pitiful whimper at how difficult it was to comprehend that this wasn't a prelude to pain. He reached his field out, seeking to mesh with Jazz's, seeking reassurance that this wasn't a delusion created by his processor after being pushed too far.

Jazz tightened his hold almost imperceptibly and nuzzled back, then shifted one hand over to stroke his thumb over Prowl's lips and while the other lifted away for a moment to come back with a cable, touching it gently to Prowl's chest, silently asking permission. The panel slid open immediately, though it was as much from well-trained knowing that to refuse always meant having it ripped off as any real grasp that it was not going to hurt.

It was only when Jazz pinged for a connection that Prowl finally accepted that this might just be real and he hadn't been deluding himself for metacycles about what they've been doing, that they'd been exchanging text messages. A tiny burst of hope flared in him, quickly quashed on reflex at what Vortex would do to him if he caught such a reaction.

Jazz waited, holding very still but for the continuous, soft touch on Prowl's mouth, and kept his field as soothing as he could. He could feel Prowl struggling with the acceptance and was certain that if he pushed even the slightest amount, the Praxian would break. He'd been watching Prowl closely over the recent metacycles, and the madness that he wore when Vortex tortured him had started feeling less and less like an act.

When Prowl allowed the connection, Jazz moved forward just enough to brush against his outer firewalls, and lowered his own completely. He felt Prowl rush forward at the opening, then the loss when the processors behind it suddenly realized he didn't know what to look for to reassure himself this was real.

With a sick feeling of accepting he'd simply have to trust, Prowl backed up to a more polite level and lowered his outer firewalls, such as they were. He rebuilt them each time, but Vortex was still able to shred his defenses in moments. He knew they couldn't be all that strong.

~Jazz?~ Question. Statement. Plea. Prayer.

Jazz shivered just from hearing his name and moved right to the edge of what Prowl had opened, no further. Almost a vorn since they'd been able to truly communicate, he'd all but forgotten what Prowl sounded like, _felt_ like. ~Me, it's me,~ he answered, pulsing affection and relief through.

Prowl shuddered again, this time the sound he made was a real sob while his engine stuttered and hiccupped and he leaned into the touch with _want_ for it. ~Hungry.~

~Here,~ Jazz said, drawing his hand away from Prowl's mouth and returning a moment later with a half-full cube that he hadn't finished earlier. ~Not too fast,~ he instructed, tilting it up. Too much energon, too fast, could wreak havoc on starved systems. Jazz had learned that under Vortex's tutelage, playing with mecha who were kept alive for dozens of orns before their sparks finally guttered.

Prowl complied, sipping it as he was offered. It was a vast improvement over having a cube forcefully poured down his intake. It wasn't even a full klik before more of his processor came on line with a mental sigh of relief. Linked as they were, Jazz also saw the ripple of activity as background programs restarted and began manipulating systems external to Prowl.

Jazz resisted the curiosity-driven urge to push forward and watch closer, and continued to linger on the very outer edge of Prowl's processors. He tucked the cube back into subspace when it was empty and brought his hand back up to Prowl's helm, slowly tracing the misshapen plating. ~Missed you so much,~ he whispered.

~Can you handle two more vorns?~ Prowl shivered and pressed into the contact, physical and mental, wanting it even more than he wanted energy. He'd held on for this for so long, it nearly made his gyros spin to finally have Jazz's touch and presence in the way he remembered it.

Jazz whined quietly and pressed back in every way possible, feeling his spark clench at the idea of spending even one more metacycle in Vortex's grip. ~I can, I will,~ he said, as much determined as he was despairing. ~I made it this far.~

~As have I,~ Prowl sighed, curling around the contact as best he could. ~The more I can siphon from him, the better our odds once we run.~

Jazz nodded, huddling into the mental touch. ~And I still need time. I can keep anything from moving over the bond, but I can't block him out.~ He huffed, a soft, bitter laugh. ~I practice when he overloads, he doesn't notice then.~

~Smart,~ Prowl purred into the contact and the choice. ~No matter what, you must be able to block the bond or he will be able to track us when we escape.~

Jazz nodded again and was silent for a few kliks while he basked in the simple feeling of Prowl's field and processors flush and mingled with his own, tracing his fingers carefully over the frame that was no longer recognizable as Praxian. When his hands returned back up to Prowl's shoulders where he'd started, he stilled and sighed, mentally backing up a step as he tried to think of a way to phrase what he wanted to say. Prowl didn't press, simply waited while Jazz wrestled with himself, for which Jazz was quietly grateful. Finally he decided that the simplest thing would be the easiest and stepped back in.

~I'm sorry,~ he said, and tried to push over his sense of how much of this was his fault. ~For all of this, for every time I help him hurt you, I...I'm so, _so_ sorry, I can't even...~ Instead of words, he pressed his disbelief that Prowl still felt anything but hate for him, and his simultaneous relief.

~There have been moments,~ Prowl admitted, the time he'd almost had his nose pressed into Jazz's dripping valve, the scent of the overload-heated lubricant while Vortex hurt him dominant among the memories of those moments. ~Loving you is the only reason I keep functioning.~

Jazz shuddered at the glimpse of that memory. ~For me as well,~ he said softly. ~Tell me how I can help you.~

Prowl simply leaned into the mental and physical comfort for a long moment. ~Focus on learning to block the bond. We can not leave before he can't track us. Keep my energon high enough to remain aware. Half this level at least. Not enough that I start looking better, but enough that I can keep my seneschal systems active.~

Jazz smiled a little as he listened. He'd had a feeling that was going to be his answer from the work-focused Praxian. ~I will do that,~ he promised, then leaned back far enough to look into Prowl's optics, and his mood sobered again. ~How do I help _you?_ You have been struggling.~ He reached out a soft mental touch and brushed it over where he could still feel madness lurking.

Prowl shuttered his optics and shuddered, seeking more physical contact. ~The energon. I ... know how to cope, but I must have my processors energized. Manage _this_ as often as is safe.~

Jazz nuzzled him and began his careful, gentle stroking of Prowl's frame again. ~I plan to do this as often as is possible,~ he murmured, shifting closer and bringing as much of their frames into contact as he could. ~I'm scared of losing myself,~ he added in a whisper. ~I don't like what I... what he makes me into.~

~Lean on me when you need comfort,~ Prowl told him with a warm upwelling of support and affection. ~We will see each other through this.~

Jazz shivered with relief and selfishly took the support, well aware of how much pain Prowl lived in and how much he should be the stronger right now, but unable to stop himself with it offered so freely. Prowl had been his safety for so long, it was hard to change that feeling.

As soon as he felt steady again, he sent as much as he could in return. ~The loop won't look suspicious for a few more joors. I'm going to stay right here until then.~

Prowl didn't answer with words, instead he allowed the rush of gratitude and _want_ for this to envelope them before settling, allowing them both to simply enjoy the closeness and contact so long denied them.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz strolled through the garden, face upturned into the light and heat from the sun as he passed by the extensive variety of imported organic growth. He'd never imagined it would feel this good to be outside again, and he hadn't smelled air this fresh since he'd first stepped through the estate doors. With everything that had happened, he hadn't even realized how much he missed it.

He paused to look around, recording everything in the highest detail he was capable of to transfer to Prowl later. The Praxian had asked for a walk-through of the outer gardens, and with the recent freedom Vortex had been allowing Jazz with the estates, it had only been a matter of a post-overload request, purred into the rotor's audial.

Jazz made a face as he looked into yet another decorative mercury pool. Vortex still had complete control of the door to their quarters. He was letting Jazz out, but he still controlled when Jazz could leave. It was another problem they would need to overcome. Prowl didn't have access to the lock systems, at least not for the Lords' quarters, which meant it was going to be on Jazz. They couldn't rely on Vortex giving Jazz the codes, which might change at any moment, which meant hacking the lock. He resented having to spend some of the time he could hide behind the recording loop doing anything but touching Prowl, but it was necessary.

Jazz passed by the small grotto that marked the single night he'd been with Prowl, spending no more time looking over it than any other part as he continued along. It wasn't until he reached the opposite side of the grounds that he finally stopped for a moment, sitting down on a bench and staring at the ground, lost in his memory of that night.

"Lord Jazz?" A low, quiet voice disrupted his thoughts. "May I ask a question?"

Jazz lifted his head, looking at the servant he hadn't even noticed approaching. "Of course," he said, forcing an easy smile, unable to stop himself from pulling the last time he'd seen this mech, back at his creators' estate.

"It is known that Lord Vortex took Prowl," the mech said softly, his optics down. "May I know his status for his next of kin?"

Jazz's optics widened and he grew very still, unprepared for the question. Well aware that Vortex could be watching him, Jazz paid careful attention to the bond for anything coming through, but it was still, no instruction forthcoming. Jazz refocused on the servant, then lowered his gaze back to the ground. "That is not for me to say," he answered quietly.

"My apologies for disturbing you, Lord Jazz." The servant bowed and quickly left.

Jazz watched him go, then rose to his feet with a sigh. He needed to finish his walk and get back inside. Vortex may have permitted him to leave, but that certainly didn't mean the rotor was going to forgive unnecessary lingering.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

When Jazz entered the berthroom, he noted that Prowl was fully energized, though looking a bit dazed still, and Vortex was grinning, all but vibrating with eager anticipation.

He paused, examining the situation carefully while giving Vortex a warm smile and inclining his head in submissive greeting. "Thank you for allowing me to walk in the gardens, my bonded," he said, pulsing affection and gratitude over the sparkbond.

The rotor purred. "You have earned some freedoms, and a reward. Make yourself look good on the berth."

Jazz hummed as he walked gracefully past Vortex and Prowl, ignoring the latter completely as he obeyed, sliding onto the soft material and turning onto his back. He stretched, making every movement as slow and sensuous as he could, before reclining back, one knee up while the other leg fell to the side, casually spreading his thighs just enough to be tempting. He settled one hand at the base of his neck and slowly trailed his fingers down to the junction between his hip and pelvis, then traced the same path back up, watching Vortex the entire time as the bond thrummed with lust. "As so, my Lord?" he purred.

"Yes," Vortex rumbled hotly. He grabbed Prowl by the back of the neck and hauled the unresisting but fully coherent mech to the end of the berth. He forced Prowl's face up. "You will pleasure him. Fail to knock him off line and I will punish you severely."

Jazz's engines gave a sharp whine of protest as his relaxation vanished. He managed to stay where he was, but his head snapped up from Prowl to Vortex as two different profiles warred for the appropriate response, and very real distress and confusion pushed over the bond. "Bonded," he trilled, softly and imploringly, "I don't understand..."

"He still desires you," the rotor growled. "After all this, he _still_ desires you. So he's going to get a more direct lesson. I _will_ break him before I extinguish him."

"But my frame is only yours to touch," Jazz murmured, still confused, and very alarmed on another level, though he settled obediently back down.

"Your frame is mine to do with as I will," Vortex corrected with unusual patience, a mixture of pleasure with Jazz and irritation directed elsewhere coming across the bond. "Right now I will see it used to teach this creature a lesson."

That answer was enough to settle the spiking anxiety in both profiles, leaving the construct happily purring to perform and Jazz to worry about his response and how serious Vortex was about extinguishing Prowl. His legs relaxed and fell apart while he licked his lips and looked at the rotor. "Anything, my bonded," he purred.

With a nod and flare of pleasure towards Jazz Vortex shoved Prowl forward, forcing him to stumble into the berth. "You heard, _thing_," he snarled at Prowl. "Make him scream with pleasure as you've wanted to."

Prowl tore his optics from Jazz to look at Vortex with real fear, then settled back on Jazz and let the lust he'd felt for so long flare inside him. He climbed onto the berth, his joints stiff from lack of use, and knelt between Jazz's legs. Unable to speak, he looked at Jazz, hopeful for some directions, though his frame knew what it wanted.

Jazz stared back, optics wide, trying not to think about how many times he'd imagined seeing this. Never had Vortex been looming overhead, golden optics watching everything. Jazz shivered and wondered if it would be better to ignore him or try to think about him the entire time.

That thought almost made him laugh. Vortex would never do this.

_Won't take much. Wanted too much._ Jazz settled back, laying down. As much as he wanted to watch, record every moment, he knew that was too dangerous. If his desire for Prowl came out too strongly...

He didn't want to think about what would happen if Vortex read that. He didn't want to think about what would happen as soon as he overloaded, so he tried to clear his thoughts and ignore everything but the sensory input.

Lacking any further direction and with Vortex looming behind him, Prowl shivered and admitted to what they all knew. His field bloomed rich with desire, focused on the now quite simpler looking mech he loved so much.

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archiveofourown org/works/637909/chapters/1235899


	10. The Final Straw

Replace the space with a . for the URL. Another chapter to read on Ao3  
archiveofourown org/works/637909/chapters/1235901

**Starcrossed 10: The Final Straw**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz stood in front of the door to his chambers with a small cable from his wrist hooked up to the lock that prevented him from leaving. He watched his chronometer ticking by while he shifted and rewrote the permissions programming, until he heard a soft click indicating the mag lock's release. He reset the lock, unplugged from it, and crossed back into the berthroom and over to Prowl.

The Praxian had his dataport exposed before Jazz even reached him and he plugged in, leaning into a kiss as he did. ~Less than three kliks,~ he reported. ~I think I can get it under one with enough practice.~

~Excellent,~ Prowl's relief was far stronger than his praise. The entirely too regular sessions of Jazz torturing him for Vortex's amusement were even more draining on him than either had anticipated, but he was still holding himself together thanks to these times when Vortex was not in the suite. ~What of blocking the bond?~ That was the last needed step. With the extra energon Jazz was able to slip him helping his processor speed, preparations were going much faster than he'd initially calculated, and they could be out in less than a vorn.

~Still not quite,~ Jazz sighed. ~It would be easier if he would merge with me, ever.~ What he had been unable to figure out in more than a vorn of practice had become completely clear in a single moment during the only merge they had ever had apart from their bonding. ~Soon,~ he promised quickly. ~It's not like I'm short on overloads to practice with.~

~Soon as you can block him,~ Prowl's words were as much a promise as a plea. He needed to escape at least as badly as Jazz. Probably far more than Jazz did. Eventually Jazz's programming would convince him to accept his function as Vortex's bonded. Prowl only had the hope of escape with Jazz to hold onto. He leaned into the contact, drawing strength from the loving touch and the knowledge that the plan was almost ready to move to the next phase.

Jazz wrapped his arms tightly around Prowl and rested there silently, trying to pulse over as much support as he had to offer. Hurting Prowl had been hard, but as more time went on, it was becoming less so, and that was frightening him. Learning and reprogramming himself to enjoy pain had been bad enough, but to enjoy _Prowl's_... They needed to get out, before he lost himself and destroyed them both.

Activity over the bond caught his attention, a strong ripple of _pleasure_ that was tinted differently than what he usually caught from Vortex when he was away at one of his gatherings. Curious, Jazz pushed back with a question, and the rumble of desire and intention-for _him_-came at the same time as unexpected motion in one of the hall cameras. Vortex was entering the estate, less than a joor after he'd left.

~Slag!~ Jazz hissed while he watched the rotor approaching. ~He was supposed to be at Brawl's all orn!~ He lifted his hand up to the hardline and held there, pulling back to look at Prowl. ~Will you be all right?~

~Yes.~ Prowl assured him as he settled into his default position. It didn't matter if it was truth or not. They could not be caught like this.

Jazz growled softly. ~I'll try to distract him with something else,~ he promised, unplugged, and moved back over to his kneel on the berth, disabling the loop, and then lifted his arms over his head, using the remaining kliks to make a show of stretching out after holding still for so long before reclining back on the berth in time for Vortex to enter.

"Just what I had in mind," Vortex rumbled as he zeroed in on Jazz immediately, his strides taking him to the berth where he all but pounced on his bonded.

Jazz gave a soft, surprised yelp as he was pinned back and looked up at his bonded. He'd been expecting to have to seduce Vortex into berth, convince him that a series of overloads was going to be more interesting than watching Prowl be tortured, but the rotor seemed to have come to that conclusion on his own already. "Bonded," he trilled, letting his pleased surprise bloom out. "I was not expecting you so soon."

"Yes, I got a little mod just for you," Vortex rumbled, claiming a kiss as his spike cover slid back. "It's time we had a creation to occupy your down time with so you aren't so bored."

Jazz's warm, pleasured mood, both at his bonded's amorous intent and relief that Prowl seemed to be spared for the moment, vanished instantly and he pulled out of the kiss, staring at the rotor. "Creation," he repeated, stunned. "Now?"

"It has been over a vorn. It is past time you carried my heir so the nobility accepts this as a real bonding," Vortex explained, annoyed he had to do more than pay, but not so much he cared that much about it.

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	11. Making a Run for It

Sorcelling - taking on any form you can scan/have specs for. From Story of a Lifetime (taralynden dot /tag/tf%3Alifetime) by taralynden on LJ.

Yet another chapter with graphic smut. Read on Ao3  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1254006

Starcrossed 11: Making a Run for It  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl sent a silent prayer of thanks to Primus that Vortex was as unobservant and uncaring as he was. For metacycles now he'd had enough energon in his systems the majority of the time to think and access his seneschal upgrades. Which meant for metacycles now he, and not Vortex, had been in control of the estate's networked systems. There were now funds and supplies stashed in a thousand locations all over Cybertron, including several larger credit deposits that would fund the repairs and rebuilds required to become invisible to the hunters Vortex would send out. With two newsparks to support, it would be tight until Prowl could devote time to investing and see the returns, but it would be enough.

It had to be.

It had taken a miracle to keep Jazz calm enough to last the eight orns until Vortex's scheduled departure. Several times Prowl had almost failed.

Now would come the difficult part. His plan was about to meet the real world and one very unstable mech that was close to a split personality profile disorder. That construct would have to be removed, and quickly.

For right now though, he had to keep the quivering, stressed out carrier that had just attached itself to him calm until Vortex was well enough away. Jazz was holding his shoulders and pressing their helms together, fingers digging almost painfully into the thin armor. Vortex had roused him early, long before his scheduled departure, taken him long and slow while Jazz-Jazz's construct-keened and praised the rotor, joyfully begging for his transfluid to fill him, to strengthen the newsparks. When it had finally ended, Vortex leaving Jazz to refuel on his own while he prepared to leave, the primary profile had taken control, to noticeably increased tension and pacing that even Vortex had commented on.

And now all that nervous tension was pummeling him through the hardline.

~He's off the estate, why are we waiting?~ Jazz pleaded.

~Our chances of success greatly improve when it is dark,~ Prowl explained patiently. ~I can cover a great deal, but I can not hide us once we are outside.~

Jazz squirmed anxiously. He'd heard this before, he knew it by spark, and everything in him still wanted to bolt. ~I'll have to change the loop, every couple joors. Help me remember. I'm not sure...how well I'll focus.~

~I will not let you forget,~ Prowl promised. ~We have not come so far, endured so much, just to get caught by a loop running too long. Unbind me?~

Jazz started. He hadn't even thought to release the bindings, and quickly reached around to do so before pulling an energon cube that he'd tucked away earlier and offering it. ~What can I do?~ he asked. ~Is there anything I can help with?~

~Help me oil and stretch,~ Prowl said as he accepted the cube. ~My articulation points are not well-lubricated.~

Jazz unplugged to go retrieve the oil after helping Prowl stand up, glad to have something productive to do instead of having to simply wait the entire time. He waited until Prowl had finished drinking before stepping in and carefully tipping the bottle over each joint as Prowl indicated them and helping him move to get the oil more worked in. "Stop me if it hurts," he murmured.

Prowl nodded, his field speaking for him as they were no longer hardlined. Small sounds of pleasure, relief and occasionally strain came from him, but never a complaint. He wanted to move. Was grateful to move.

_Time to change the vid,_ he pinged Jazz about halfway through the oiling, who nodded and helped him back into the restraints, where he sat motionless as Jazz stretched out of the seeming recharge, drew a cube for himself, added the extra supplements, and drank it slowly on the berth. When he was done, he lay back down, and as soon as the loop was playing again with the new position he finished helping Prowl oil the underused joints.

"Lay down with me?" Jazz asked softly when Prowl indicated he could stop, tugging his hand.

Warmth infused Prowl's field as he followed, more than happy to lie down and hold his love while they waited out the nerve-wracking joors until it was optimal to escape. He consumed five more cubes of energon and Jazz two before it was dusk.

~It is time,~ Prowl nudged Jazz over the hardline. ~One more loop, showing you going to recharge for the night and we go.~

Jazz lifted his head and nodded. It felt like almost no time at all before he had finished going through his nightly motions and was laying down and powering off his optics. He held there for a klik, motionless, before setting the loop and sitting upright.

He had Prowl out of his restraints in moments and was clinging to him again, not hiding the sharp spikes of nervous energy that came out in his field.

~We are ready. It is planned. There will be no turning back once you unlock the door,~ Prowl said gently, offering the mech he loved one final chance to back out. This was a cage, but it was a gilded one. Prowl knew he could offer nothing of the kind. Not for a very long time at least. Not in time to help their creations.

~I'd rather be in the gutters with you than be here with _him_,~ Jazz said, easily understanding what Prowl was offering and the sacrifice he would make if that was Jazz's choice. His hand came up over his spark and the two small lifeforces he could feel there. He cycled his vents once, twice, and focused in on the resolve and strength he had survived this long with, feeling his field smooth out with the next x-vent. ~Even without you, I wouldn't stay here. Not when he plans to hurt one of them.~

Prowl nodded, understanding the choice on several levels. He'd been raised to walk away from his creations shortly after they separated, to watch others raise them and not treat them differently than any other youth, but it did nothing to calm the carrier protocols he suffered with each time. Jazz had not even had that much of an advantage in the choice. If it wasn't for how long they'd planned this, Prowl would doubt it was the right choice. As it stood, he was relieved.

~Then unlock the door and let's go.~

Jazz unplugged from Prowl and took one more moment to look back over the chambers he had spent most of his bonded life in, then nodded once, turned, and hooked into the door's systems. Half a klik later, the mag-locks disengaged with a soft click and Jazz straightened, tucking the cable back in as the door opened. He stared out into the empty hallway, then looked at Prowl. "Ready?"

The Praxian nodded, his focus more inward than outward as he manipulated cameras, recorders, locks and messaging all over the estate to clear their path and hide trace of it. Simultaneously, lights, locks, dispensers, and any other machinery that he could affect began to malfunction, drawing any and all attention away from their route. Along the way there were energon cubes, small credit sticks and other useful odds and ends left conveniently for them to pick up.

It was eerie, Jazz decided, walking through lifeless halls that he had never seen empty before. He tucked the items into subspace as he went, keeping an optic on Vortex's private surveillance while Prowl watched the estate systems. He hadn't seen movement on their path yet, and wondered how long Prowl had been planning to make sure every mecha was otherwise engaged right at this moment. He decided that when-_when_, not if-they were free and safe, he was going to have to ask the Praxian how he had managed all of this.

He picked something up and looked at it for a moment before realizing it was a stack of condensed mineral supplements that he would need as the newsparks started to develop frames. He subspaced it, glanced at Prowl, and flared his field in quiet gratitude.

_Planning is what I do._ Prowl responded with appreciation and amusement in the glyphs.

It wasn't long before they were in the garden and Prowl's tension spiked. Out here in the open it was much more difficult to ensure no one saw them. He could keep hallways clear, he couldn't keep mecha from looking out windows. He was relying on the internal chaos to distract them, and that was no guarantee.

Jazz shivered as they started forward, his own tension rising in response, and getting higher the further they were from the estate. He pushed back against it as nerves, fear of discovery, and not being able to see clearly around every path.

Then they turned a corner that gave them a clear view of the outer wall, and when Prowl moved forward, he didn't. In the next moment, he felt himself taking one backwards, one he didn't want to take, and a panic that had nothing to do with escape, the newsparks, or Prowl rose up in him and he froze, trembling while he fought to move forward.

_Jazz?_ Prowl texted as soon as he noticed the absence of his shadow.

He turned, looked and _moved_. Jazz's comms were disabled in a sparkbeat, the hardline forced into place and outer firewalls hacked. ~Jazz, you cannot allow the construct to win.~

The voice that answered him was Jazz, but not as Prowl had ever heard him in here before. ~You're trying to take me from my bonded!~ it hissed, full of disgust and hatred. ~I should have let him kill you for his pleasure! Thief! _Thief!_ I'll kill you, I'll call him, _let go of me!_~

Jazz's frame was frozen in Prowl's grip and Prowl could feel two halves warring, one that was trying to lash out at him and the other that was rapidly losing ground as it tried to resist while simultaneously protecting the blocks on the sparkbond, forcing everything it could spare into keep it closed, but losing the physical advantage at the same time. The frame growled angrily and stumbled forward, then froze again as the attention lurched over to stop the command to attack Prowl.

It was all Prowl needed to see. He focused his full attention, all the advanced processors that he'd been upgraded with and created with, and began to systematically disassemble the profile that was fighting him. It was so very close to murder, but that didn't even cause a moment of hesitation. Jazz had killed a carrier and many others to get them this far. Prowl would kill the profile he had helped create.

The frame gave a hard shudder as the profile realized what he was doing and started to fight back, but Jazz also saw what was happening and shifted his attention, pulling as much processor power away and back as he could while the profile was distracted.

With that strength gone, strength that wouldn't have been enough to fight against Prowl in the first place, it took the Praxian just moments to tear through the rest of the programming. Jazz wrenched free and the frame sank forward, shaking.

~It's okay, beloved,~ Prowl soothed him, trying to make what he'd just done a little less traumatizing on the young mech than he knew it had to be. ~I will clean up the remains when we are safe. We need to move _now_.~

Jazz nodded and focused on Prowl's voice, forced his limbs to respond again, and ran with him, ducking through the garden with a silence he had learned while meditating and observing his systems for the quietest operating parameters.

Twice they halted, waiting while guards ran by, before moving forward and when they reached the front gates, it hardly seemed real when they simply unlocked and swung aside.

There was a visible shudder as they walked out of their prison and living nightmare of more than a vorn. Prowl felt himself starting to crack, the beginnings of the breakdown from relief he knew would come. It couldn't be now though. He put his hand on Jazz's shoulder to turn the young mech, no longer a noble by law, and kissed him with all the passion he felt, everything that had kept him functioning and reasonably sane. At the same time, he brought his cable up to Jazz's chest and plugged into the already-open dataport.

~We need to split up and rejoin much farther from the estate. If someone notices our absence, a pair will be more conspicuous. You can drive. I must walk. You remember how to check into the hotel?~

Jazz pressed back into the kiss as soon as Prowl started to move away. ~Look for an unlit door, there will be a way to pay outside and it will unlock. I remember. Please be careful.~

~I will be,~ Prowl promised. ~I fit in there better than you do. Try not to be seen. I will join you as soon as I can.~ With a final quick kiss they unplugged.

Jazz looked at Prowl for another moment before he transformed into his simple alt. form that had seen almost no use since his adult upgrades. One supervised drive on a well-lit road during the daylight, and now he was heading through a city he'd never been in on dark roads that were not designed for tourists the way Central City's were.

_See you soon._ he texted with a glance at Prowl one more time, then kicked his engines to life and set off.

Vortex lived in the richest area of Kaon, so the streets surrounding the estate were wide, smooth, and well-lit, which gave Jazz the time he needed to get used to the feeling of the alt form and the sensors he needed to use to navigate. He was just starting to feel comfortable with the rarely-used form when the roads started to narrow and the lights came less frequently, and more than once, he passed another vehicle heading in a different direction, or drove past a larger frame walking by. A glance at his guidance system showed that he seemed to be heading towards the outskirts of the industry area of the city, and while Prowl had designed a route to go through the least populated areas possible, he still needed to get through the residential district first.

At one point, he saw a frame that looked enough like Brawl's that he quickly killed his engines and coasted into a shadow, powering everything down until the mech was out of sight. His white armor-something he had once been so proud of, and kept shining and clean-felt like it was glowing in the dark, reflecting every single light, making him stand out in the dark city.

After waiting two kliks, he restarted his engines and started again. The guidance system told him he was about halfway there and he didn't see anyone else as he passed from the residential area into an industry quarter, and finally reached the hotel.

It was low and long, with lit and unlit doors spaced equidistant across the front. Jazz glanced at his sensors, saw no signs of other mecha, and transformed again, stepping forward. Something rustled to his side and he jumped away, seeing a small creature moving in the shadows. He settled his spark and looked around, seeing a dark, unlit horizon past the hotel that he was instinctively wary of.

Shaking the feeling off, he went to a door that was bordered on either side by other unoccupied rooms and looked at the panel on the front. There was a single slot, large enough for a credit stick, and a credit-per-joor price. Jazz pulled the credit sticks he'd been carrying, slid enough in for a dozen joors, and heard the door unlock.

Three rooms down, a door opened and Jazz found himself staring as a mech stumbled out, obviously over-energized, and glanced his way. Jazz tensed, the mech looked him up and down, and then continued on his way. Jazz ducked into the room and closed the door behind him, leaning back against it with a heavy x-vent. He texted Prowl the number and walked forward to crawl on the berth and wait in awful silence.

It was torture, even with his efforts to meditate. He reluctantly stirred at one point to drink half a cube of supplement-richened energon. He had no idea how long it would take to walk here. Even knowing it was coming, the knock and low bark made him jump.

He very nearly tripped over himself in his scramble to the door. It didn't open immediately to him and he stared at it for a moment, confused, before realizing he had to press a trigger to the side. It slid away to reveal Prowl-_Prowl_-and Jazz grabbed his hand and stepped backwards, pulling him in. The larger mech gave no resistance, only pulling Jazz against him for a relieved kiss once the door slid shut behind him.

Fingers gliding against Jazz's dataport, urgent in the request to hardline. Jazz opened immediately, shivering at the touch and dropping his firewalls before Prowl had even plugged in. The first rush of exchange protocols was a relief to them both, a trembling need to reconnect as they both calmed into the success of the first step in their escape.

~Are you ready to be rebuilt?~ Prowl asked gently.

Jazz nodded. He had stopped caring about his frame a long time ago. Every time he looked at himself, he saw Flatline's repairs, and nothing would ever look like his original adult frame, the one that had been designed to be beautiful and optic-catching in every way, the one that had made Prowl's optics brighten and his doorwings lift in a rare physical expression of interest. He missed _that_, he would never miss this. He sent as much of that wordlessly to Prowl as he could.

A gentle kiss was Prowl's reply, the connection full of understanding after his own vorn of being mangled again and again.

~Then come. It will be good to speak and comm again,~ Prowl couldn't hide his anticipation of that. It was easy to forget how integral both were until they were lost.

Jazz looked past him at the doorway, readying himself as much as he could to go back outside, no matter how much he irrationally wanted to curl up in this room and possibly never leave. His fingers settled on Prowl's neck, over the vocalizer. ~Yes, it will,~ he agreed. ~I have missed your voice,~ he added with a smile.

He pulled up the location of the workshop Prowl had given him, double checked it once with the Praxian, then disengaged the connection as Prowl unplugged and they started off.

Having Prowl there next to him made Jazz feel immediately better as they walked, as illogical as he realized that was. He was by far the stronger of the two at the moment, but Prowl's battered appearance made him feel less out of place in the darkened streets as they passed by small alleys that he tried not to look down too closely.

When they reached their destination-it looked less like a workshop and more like an abandoned building-Jazz looked at their reflections in the glossy black window reflection, shook his head, and followed Prowl in. They were greeted by a small mech, a minibot by height but not the stocky build most sported. This one was built more like Jazz, but half the height, and Prowl was relaxed around him.

"Ah, hello, it's good you made it," the small mech grinned brightly, his field full of warmth. "Jazz, I'm Mucit. My apprentice is Wheeljack." He motioned to a quiet, mostly white mech with green and red markings and lit up helmfins. "If you have the payment?" he looked to Prowl, who produced three credit sticks.

Mucit took them, gave a quick scan and nodded his satisfaction. "Who's first?"

Jazz looked at Prowl. "You go," he said. For all that Prowl was holding himself steady, there was no way his underused, mishandled frame could be anything other than massively painful after so much movement. He looked back at the smaller mech. "How long?"

"It depends on how much repair work is needed," Mucit gave Prowl a good walk-around. "Less than the orn, with any kind of luck. Yours will go much quicker, since you're in good general repair."

Jazz nodded. He wanted to be awake and alert when Vortex realized what had happened; he wasn't sure if being in medical stasis would affect the blocks he was holding over the sparkbond, and Vortex would definitely realize before an orn was up, probably only a quarter of that, at this point, since it would be not long after dawn when Quickturn came to rouse him for his morning supplements. "Can I watch?" he asked, not sure if he would be able to sit that long with nothing to do but worry.

Prowl nodded, so Mucit did too and waved them all to follow to the back. The door closed behind them and energy shimmered through it, but Jazz's focus was on the room he was in. Simple, no windows, a single average-sized medical berth and a double-wide berth. That's what Jazz understood. The tools and devices were beyond him, but he still watched as Prowl compliantly lay down on the medical berth and shut down before being put into medical stasis.

"Why don't you settle on the berth?" Wheeljack motioned to the one for recharge. His helm fins flashed various colors in time to his speech. "You can watch, or nap. It's not that exciting if you aren't into this stuff."

Jazz nodded and slid up onto it, resting back with his knees tucked up to his chest while the other two turned their attention towards Prowl. He flinched at the first touch, still half-expecting this to all have been one massive stress-induced glitch, waiting for Flatline with his saws and torches and syringes to appear. The sharp movement caught the larger one's attention and he lifted his head for a moment while the fins glowed soft and white, making Jazz think of a smile.

He settled in a little better after that, watching quietly as the rebuild began with opening up the masses of cables that comprised most of Prowl's neck to find his vocalizer. The pair was obviously distressed by what they were seeing, but didn't say anything until they had the cables cleaned out and everything put back together. There was a moment of relaxation and Prowl began to boot up.

"Wanted to get the vocalizer fixed first so you two could talk for a bit before he really goes under," Mucit explained. "I understand you haven't heard his voice in over a vorn now."

Jazz shook his head. "Can I...?" he asked, gesturing, and when Mucit nodded he jumped off the berth and moved near Prowl's head, carefully touching his helm, intensely aware of the other two watching. He'd spent so long knowing that touching Prowl like this had to be completely hidden at the risk of both their sparks, it was hard to relax until ice blue optics flickered on and no one moved to pull him away. "Prowl?" he asked softly.

"Jazz," the new vocalizer was scratchy and spit static as it booted up, but the designation was clear. It would be a deeper tenor than before, nearly a baritone, but it was still Prowl's.

Jazz almost sobbed, and he _did_ give a startled laugh of relief. "Missed your voice," he said, and touched their helms together. Prowl's hand came up to cup his neck, both of them relishing the closeness.

"I never realized how much I used it until it was gone," Prowl admitted quietly. "Do you like it?"

Jazz hummed into the touch. "It's you, wouldn't matter what it sounded like." He lifted his other hand to cover Prowl's. "But I do like it, very much."

"Good," Prowl sagged in relief, pleasure humming through him. "Must as I'd enjoy holding you forever, the sooner we're rebuilt, the safer we'll be."

Jazz sighed in agreement, nuzzled him again, and regretfully stood up and away. "I'll wait right here," he promised, slipping back onto the berth. Prowl nodded, lay back down and was put in medical stasis once more. Time stretched on and the cheap plating was removed and tossed aside until nothing was left of Flatline's work. Jazz could finally, really start to believe they'd gotten away.

At some point while they were still stripping out unsalvageable parts Jazz felt something hard and furious pounding at the block on the bond. At the same time, something stirred in his processor, weak but determined, seeking out the bond.

The coding remains of the mostly-destroyed construct, still lurking, struggling up in response to its bonded. Jazz pushed it down, repulsed, and flinched, _hard_, drawing the attention of both mecha who were standing over Prowl. Mucit had crossed around to the same side as Wheeljack to peer down at something that his apprentice had pointed to, and now they were both looking at him.

"All right?" Mucit asked.

"Yeah," Jazz muttered, focusing inward and carefully checking the block. It was holding, and even though the rage on the other side was strong enough for the emotion to seep through, nothing else did, most importantly the awareness on the other end that was trying as hard as it could to find him. Jazz pushed back against it, and the rage was muffled slightly. He looked back at the other two, who were still watching him, and squirmed under the unwavering gazes.

"Oh, don't mind us," Mucit said, smiling warmly. "I'm just making sure we don't need to disappear in a hurry if anyone comes looking for you."

Jazz straightened. "How much do you know?"

"Enough," Mucit said, his tone serious despite his easy, relaxed look. "Some fact, some rumor, and plenty that has been pieced together between the two."

"You'd leave him like this?" Jazz asked, scowling, gesturing at Prowl.

"Kiddo, no amount of credits could compel me to stay here if what's chasing you finds this place. Prowl understood that."

Jazz shifted uncomfortably and settled. "If you know that much, what's to stop you from telling him what we look like? He'd pay you enough."

Mucit gave him a stern look. "I may have a colorful reputation, but I'm no leak." He chuckled suddenly. "Besides, your friend paid more than enough for silence, on top of everything else you're getting."

Jazz thought about that for a moment. "How can we know that?"

"I suppose I can't blame you for being mistrusting," Mucit hummed as he reached in and corrected something Wheeljack was doing. "But I promise you, not only is Prowl paying plenty, but he has plenty of friends I wouldn't risk angering. I don't exactly have an estate with my own private guard, you see."

A particularly hard slam against the bond made Jazz wince again. "Yeah," he said, trying to look relaxed. "I'll tell you if you need to run."

"I do appreciate it," Mucit said, picking out something that looked like it might have once been a gear but was rusted so badly it was crumbling in his fingers. He shook his head. "Primus what a mess. I might have been wrong, this could take more than an orn. I'd get comfortable if I were you."

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Jazz booted with the odd feeling of not remembering having gone into recharge. The work on Prowl's frame had started to seem close to finished, and he wanted to be alert as soon as Prowl was. A slight frown twitched over his face. The last thing he remembered was Wheeljack's voice gently telling him that carriers should recharge whenever they felt the need.

Mucit had indeed been incorrect about Prowl's repairs taking less than an orn, and even about them taking more than one orn. Jazz checked his chronometer and calculated that they were past the three orn mark. This was his sixth recharge, and the two medics-if they were medics, he wasn't sure-had each recharged twice, staggering the breaks so at least one of them could be working at all times.

Jazz had heard muttered cursing, but beyond that, they'd communicated by comms. He onlined his optics and focused on the table.

Wheeljack's frame was blocking most of his view, but what little he could see looked complete, though the bare metal was still colorless. He sat up, automatically pulling a cube out when his carrier systems pinged him to refuel. He winced halfway through the first swallow, choking slightly, as Vortex slammed against the block.

"You know there are hardware fixes for that," Mucit murmured, and Jazz realized the smaller mech had stepped down off the lift he used and was examining the underside of Prowl's pedes.

"For what?" Jazz asked, shoring his strength back up against both the bond and the construct that was trying to link back into the rest of his processor, one creeping line of code at a time.

Mucit glanced at him. "A piece that can disrupt the connection of a sparkbond."

"I know," Jazz said, a little defensive. "I read about them."

Mucit chuckled softly. "I'm sure you did," he said. "Then you'll know they must be custom designed, and there are precious few mecha capable of building one."

That made Jazz hesitate. "I know they need to be custom built," he said.

The minibot hummed. "If that's all you knew, then you probably don't know what they cost, either."

"...No."

"A permanent one is as much as you're paying for all of this," Mucit said, gesturing around. "A temporary one, designed to last anywhere from a few joors to a few orns, is less. They're absolutely illegal without at least two medics' signatures, or a military order."

Jazz thought about that for a moment. "What are we paying for all of this?" he finally asked.

"Kiddo, if you need to ask, you don't need to know," Mucit said, straightening. "I think that does it," he said to Wheeljack.

Wheeljack turned around, fins glowing. "There," he said, a smile in his voice. "You recharged _and_ you got to be online when he booted."

That focused all of Jazz's attention on Prowl as the mech booted up, though he couldn't hear anything over the operating sounds of the room and mecha. When Prowl's optics lit, they were the familiar ice blue and immediately sought Jazz out.

Jazz set the cube aside and jumped down. Wheeljack stepped aside for him and Jazz went immediately to stand next to Prowl's head, looking at the newly-built but still very simple helm for a moment before shifting his gaze back to his optics. "I'm glad he never broke these," he said, brushing a finger next to the closer one.

"So am I," Prowl smiled slightly and reached up to lay his hand over Jazz's. "How is the block holding up?"

Jazz's smile faded. "It's fine," he said, deciding to mention the construct later when they were alone. It was weak, he could hold it until then. "I can feel him trying to break it, hasn't really stopped, but it's holding."

"He's recharged enough too," Wheeljack added from the background. "He's being a good carrier."

Prowl's smiled warmed and his hand slid down to cover Jazz's spark. "I know. His coding is strong for it," he purred with absolute approval. Reluctantly he tore his gaze from his beloved and focused on Mucit. "I am receiving no errors, only notices of replacement parts. Did the installation go well?"

"Other than the part where it took three slagging orns to rebuild you to the point it was going to be useful, it went smoothly. Your original construction and protoform, what's left of it, is strong." The minibot huffed. "I was going to show you how to operate it now, but given the amount of repairs we did, I think it's best to let them settle and ensure things integrate in this form before you try another."

Prowl inclined his helm and moved, carefully and slowly, to sit up. "Your work matches your reputation," he said, making the little inventor and his apprentice beam. "Please ensure I am awake when you bring Jazz out of stasis."

"Of course," Wheeljack's helm fins flashed brightly in a warm blue. "Until then, you need the recharge and energon as much as your mate right now."

Jazz hummed at Wheeljack's choice of words as he ran his hands over the rebuilt frame. His field played along Prowl's, which felt strange in a way he couldn't place, and he frowned slightly. It felt lighter, like it was missing something he was used to being there. "Your field," he murmured, drawing Prowl's attention. "It's..." His optics brightened suddenly.

It was missing pain. Something that had been present and underlying for so long Jazz had forgotten how it could feel without. "Primus," he whispered, hand going over his mouth. "I didn't realize..."

"It is amazing what one can become accustomed to," Prowl smiled weakly before drawing him in for a gentle, chaste kiss. "Adaptation is the hallmark of out race. You and I are no different. The rebuild might feel different from all the extra armor. I requested military grade heavy armor and subsystems."

"Including weapon mounts, though he's currently unarmed," Mucit added, watching the pair with indulgently warm optics. "You're getting similar, though it'll be more of a difference. Your systems are much lighter than his, though your protoforms are of similar size."

Jazz nodded, pressed as close to Prowl as he could get while he continued his exploration of the new armor. His hand went around to Prowl's shoulders and down his back. "What about his wings?" he asked, without turning his head away.

"He still has the protoform and subsystems to handle them, but he'll only wear them when he chooses," Mucit said easily.

"It is part of why this rebuild cost so much. We're getting shape-shifting capabilities," Prowl purred. "Like new alt mode scanning, but far more extensive."

Jazz purred in response, more from hearing the sound coming from Prowl's frame and feeling the true enjoyment and relief in his field. "That can't be simple," he said, nuzzling. He could feel himself finally starting to relax, despite the presence of the other two, and he brought his hands back up around Prowl's neck.

"It's not," Wheeljack grinned, about to go into detail when something _struck_ the block on Jazz's bond, sharp and focused, and Jazz hissed softly, immediately tensing back up.

"He'll give up eventually," Prowl murmured with a soft kiss, then glanced at Mucit. "You are sure it's safe to put him in stasis?"

"It should be," the minibot nodded. "It's not like there's a choice, if we're going to upgrade him."

"Eventually could be vorns," Jazz said, shuddering and wincing as the strike came again, and then faded back to the dull, simmering rage. "So I guess the sooner we do this..."

"The safer we'll all be," Mucit finished for him. "Are you ready?"

Jazz nodded, nuzzled against Prowl for another moment, then straightened and stepped back enough for Prowl to stand. Jazz turned and strong fingers curled around his waist, helping him up onto the berth and he lay down, one hand over his spark and the other touching Prowl's face. It made him nervous to shut down and allow the two medics full access to his systems and the newsparks, but Prowl trusted them, and he could trust that. "You'll stay here?" he asked.

"Of course," Prowl kissed him gently. "I'll be no further than the berth."

Jazz nodded, then forced himself to let go and lay back, cycling down into a light recharge, and then slipping offline into stasis.

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The first thing Jazz became aware of was a hard, throbbing anger striking against the block, one that hadn't diminished in the least. He didn't want to think about how angry Vortex had to be for it to leak through strong enough to be felt when even his overloads had been completely blocked out. He was sure that was why the wrecked construct had started to claw its way back up. It felt like old, lukewarm sludge seeping into his processor. He shuddered, checked the block, and then focused his attention up and out.

A very long list started scrolling up, detailing changes he didn't even understand fully, with the occasional installation notice as something wired itself into his now-online processor. He booted his vision, turning his head to seek Prowl out. The Praxian was smiling down at him from the berthside, his hand reaching out to caress Jazz's face.

"Any errors?" the voice he was quickly learning to love asked.

Jazz heard a snort to his other side and shook his head. He shifted, tried to sit up, and quickly stopped when everything moved _wrong_. He froze for a moment, then tried again, slower, focusing on the differently moving hydraulics. There was more weight to be moved, but he could tell there was more strength to move it with. The balancing was all different. "None," he said. "Feels weird," he added, focusing for the newsparks, and relaxing when he felt them unchanged.

"You're much larger and heavier," Prowl nodded, his optics roving over the very simple frame that looked a great deal like his own. Heavy, boxy, utilitarian. It was merely mass to work with for the sorcelling device. "You'll be used to it soon. Energon levels?"

The carrier systems pinged at almost the same time and Jazz obediently pulled a cube and drank it slowly, getting a feel for his arms as he lifted the other one to reach out for Prowl.

He subspaced the empty container and swung his legs off the edge of the berth, looking around at Mucit and Wheeljack.

"All right, for now, you just watch and get used to that frame as we get Prowl though his first shift," the minibot said firmly. "The process is very energy intensive, so don't go changing if you don't need to."

"Understood," Prowl inclined his helm.

"Bring up your systems HUD, subsystem environmental adaptation," Mucit instructed. "The bottom item should be sorcelling."

"Got it," Prowl said as he watched his HUD scroll and shift through menus it hadn't contained before.

"From there you can select a preset form, which is anything you've scanned or downloaded and decided to keep. There are four frametypes in there now. You can also scan any mech that will hold still for it."

Jazz carefully stood up, listening while he took a few steps over to the other berth and stood next to Wheeljack, lifting his arms and looking down at them. He flexed his fingers several times, processor automatically recording the new size and increased distance between tip to palm.

"You'll want to watch this," Wheeljack murmured, leaning in, his field quivering with excitement.

Prowl considered his choices before selecting one. There was a shimmer and groan of real pain as Prowl's plating began to rearrange itself in ways it wasn't meant to do. It was much like scanning a new alt mode, but far more extreme. Even Prowl's facial features shifted, and for the first few moments, he was barely recognizable as _mech._ It might have even looked disturbing, to someone who hadn't watched other mecha's facial plating dripping away.

Another shift, and wide wings took up a fair amount of plating that was leaving the chassis. Prowl's chevron, or where it had been, extended and then grew down the sides of his helm. Limbs lengthened and thrusters formed where his heel-plates had once been. A third thruster, larger than the other two, took up a fair portion of his abdominal region. Only his optics remained unchanged.

Jazz's optics widened at the change. "Wow," he said, stepping forward, staring at the completely unfamiliar aerial frame, which was now colored in dark greens and silvers.

"This is how we're going to avoid detection," Prowl said, sounding exhausted from the shift. He leaned down a bit to kiss Jazz. "So long as the block holds, it will be all but impossible to ID us."

Jazz pressed into the kiss, running his hands over the taller frame. "I won't let him break it," he said, then looked towards the pair of inventors, who were looking at Prowl with matching pleased expressions on their faces. "Can I try, or should I wait?"

"Yes, please try," Mucit said agreeably. "Your frame was in much better repair, you'll be fine without a wait. The sooner you're both in new forms, the sooner we can all get out of the danger zone."

Jazz nodded and stepped back, pulling up the same menu that Prowl had been directed to and skimming over the four pre-loaded options. There was an aerial frame identical to how Prowl now looked, a racer, a standard frame that reminded him uncomfortably of the carrier he'd killed, and an all-terrain type. He braced himself and selected the racer, and almost immediately felt everything _pull_ in a very unpleasant way as his plating stretched and rearranged. It was painful, or would have been, if he didn't know what pain could mean. Compared to being melted down, it was a tickle.

And then it stopped, and he cycled his optics once and looked down at himself, gaze sweeping over the black and red coloration that he now wore, then back up at Prowl.

"It looks good on you," Prowl purred, stepping close to ghost a finger over the slender, backswept chevron Jazz now sported.

Jazz shivered at the touch and leaned into it, a strong wave of _relief_ washing through his field. They were out, they were hidden, they were going to make it. "So does yours," he murmured, and slumped, venting heavily as his systems urgently pinged him for energon. "Primus, that does take a lot," he said, pulling two large cubes.

"That's why we don't want to use it often, but over our lifetimes, it will be much more efficient than constantly getting rebuilt," Prowl smiled and took a cube of energon out of subspace for himself. "Far fewer individuals to leak what we now look like, too."

"You watch how much you're refueling," Mucit said, looking at Prowl. "One of the reasons you took so long was we could barely keep you at fifty percent capacity without sending you into systems shock. Build it slowly."

The Praxian nodded. "We've been building my systems up for metacycles. I'll be careful for a few more. It's still a little strange to think that I managed to exist on less than a mouthful of lowgrade an orn for a vorn."

Wheeljack whistled. "Should be easier with the new systems," he said. "They aren't so slagged as yours were."

"They aren't slagged at all," Mucit said, looking the pair up and down with the gaze of a craftsmech examining his art. "If anything comes up, you know how to contact me, but I don't think you should have any problems."

"Thank you," Jazz said, then looked at Prowl. "Where now?" he asked, a little pleadingly.

"Now we walk out of here, transform and drive as far away as we can before we find a place to rest," Prowl said simply, his focus on giving as few details as possible away. He inclined his helm to Mucit and Wheeljack. "Thank you for your excellent work. Should it ever come up, I will speak well of you both."

"Thanks," Wheeljack's helm fins flashed happily while Mucit simply smiled and watched the couple leave.

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::Need to stop soon,:: Jazz commed, shuddering as the construct lurched up, forming weak connections into his processors that he quickly shied away from. It had been growing more insistent, and feeling the half-deconstructed thing trying to struggle up to life-something that was based on his own coding, something that felt like _him_ in so many ways-was making his tanks churn.

It was trying to reach the bond. Forever trying to reach Vortex, whose rage had not quieted. It was more draining than Jazz had expected and this would not be their first stop for him to refuel.

::Can you last another groon?:: Prowl requested. ::We can stop to recharge then. And deal with that thing.::

::Yes,:: Jazz sighed, and as his thoughts started to wander to how exhausted he was, he grabbed them and focused forward, forcing himself to remember the many number of things he had done that had been harder than driving for another groon. In response to his need Prowl dropped down long enough to comfort him with the familiar touch of his field. Jazz felt the support there, the comfort of Prowl's inherent strength, the warmth of systems running without pain and with fuel.

It was a reminder that Prowl had suffered far more than he had and wasn't complaining. Not then and not now. He knew Prowl's fuel level was lower than his. He knew Prowl hadn't had any credible recharge since his first rebuild except for those few joors while Jazz was being rebuilt. Medical stasis while you were being rebuilt just didn't count. It wasn't rest. It didn't help auto-repair or defrag or anything else.

A tiny part of him was waiting for Prowl to have the meltdown and decaorns of recharge he must need by now.

Instead the mech was driving Jazz as hard as the roads allowed and doing his level best not to push him to match the speed of his new airframe.

He flared gratitude, and determination, and pushed his acceleration as high as he dared for the road.

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They managed the distance that Prowl had wanted in just under a groon and Prowl flew ahead, guiding Jazz off the road where it was safe, though Jazz was at a loss as to why he had picked this location. The only place nearby seemed to be a small estate. The back side of a small estate.

Prowl landed right as Jazz pulled up, carefully maneuvering the new thrusters until he was safely on the ground. He transformed, and within nanokliks Jazz was against him, pulling him into a deep kiss that was readily and greedily returned.

"We'll have to walk from here, but we'll be safe," Prowl murmured as he guided his lover towards the estate's service entrance. "We can refuel, fix that glitching programming and recharge."

Jazz kept his fingers wrapped around Prowl's as they approached the door, where Prowl paused and entered a code. It opened and he stepped in, Jazz followed, and then paused as he looked around.

He'd never seen servants' work areas, in either of the two estates he'd lived in. They had their own infrastructure that twined with the main hallways, allowing them quick and immediate access to almost anywhere that was needed without being seen getting there, enabling quick and discrete service.

From here, he could see several halls branching off, a lift, an open washrack, and what might be a hall lined with personal quarters. There was no one in sight.

"This is a summer hunting estate for the House my half brother is seneschal for. No one will be here for at least two metacycles," Prowl explained, his frame relaxing as the door slid closed behind them. "Fuel, cleaning up your code, recharge, washracks. What order would you like?"

"Fuel, code, washracks, recharge," Jazz said, and then shuddered as the construct seemed to sense their intentions and sent creeping tendrils out, searching for life-sustaining systems. If couldn't have its love and bonded, Jazz was not going to have Prowl. Jazz shoved it down, but the seeking trails of broken coding leaked right back out, slow and steady and ravenous for a taste of spark energy.

Prowl had started to step forward, but Jazz reached out and grabbed his arm. "_Code_," he gasped, giving another hard shudder and a low moan when the construct found a hold and heaved itself up, slavering in anticipation of destroying the thieves. "Code first! Primus-get it _out!_"

Prowl simply nodded and plugged in, not even giving Jazz the time to open his dataport on his own. The moment Jazz's systems became peripheral to his own he hacked several critical datacores and took full control of Jazz's frame. While he guided them to the ground to lean against a wall, slumped together, the majority of his overpowered systems began rerouting all of the vital signals through himself. It was suicidaly dangerous. If the code got into the right place it could destroy them both. It also gave Jazz the protection of Prowl's firewalls and a system not the construct's own to filter out the broken code.

He settled in and began a systematic scrubbing of Jazz's processors, code, memory banks and active memory for every trace of anything he didn't want there. Entire blocks of memory were obliterated because the adaptive code was integrated strongly enough in them that it could rebuild itself, given enough time. Other memories were simply sanitized, taken into Prowl, erased from Jazz, stripped down to a recorded memory that one might get from a library file, then placed where the full memory had been. After each memory was examined, no matter what happened to it, it was locked down so Jazz could not access it.

Other parts of Prowl's processors began an aggressive sweep of Jazz's code, forcing every line and fragment to justify its existence and lay out every protocol and routine.

It was _terrifying_, and moving too rapidly for Jazz to understand or even fully feel what was happening. In one instant, he'd been upright, looking at Prowl, and in the next, he was blind and trapped and moving, feeling pieces of himself crumbling away into nothing as memories were taken and shredded, leaving a foundation beneath him that felt like it could topple at any time.

The pain-if he could call it that-was brutal and pounding, worse than feeling Vortex striking the bond, worse than feeling Vortex striking _him_, and it left him screaming in silent horror, locked out from his frame, unable to stop _himself_ from slipping right through his own fingers.

Somewhere through it all, he could feel _Prowl_ and he clung to that as hard as he could while the invading presence calmly and systematically tore through him, easily overpowering the shrieking remnants of the construct, wiping it away.

Then just as quick as things had been torn apart, they were back. First his memories, then system after system was turned over to him in rapid succession. It was not unlike booting up, but much less comprehendible.

~Jazz?~ Prowl nudged him gently, everything about him apologetic.

Optics snapped back on, startled and disoriented, and Jazz couldn't remember how he'd gotten here, pressed against the wall with Prowl over him, wings flared out and blocking his view of their surroundings. He shifted, realized his fingers were digging into Prowl's arms, and tried to relax them.

~Yes,~ he said, still unsettled and anxious without being able to place _why_. He reached tentatively into his processors, and slumped in relief when he found himself alone there.

~It's over,~ Prowl said firmly. ~I removed every trace of it. Do you believe you can stand?~

~Yes,~ Jazz answered, and rose with Prowl, frowning at the vaguely uncomfortable feeling that was still lingering. He shook it off and looked at Prowl, offering a half smile. ~So that leaves fuel, washracks, and recharge.~ After joors of travel, he almost wanted to skip right to the washracks, but he also knew once they were done with that, they weren't going to want to do anything but fall into a berth.

Prowl smiled, kissed him gently and unplugged. "The kitchen stores are this way. I'll show you which shelves you can take energon from without causing trouble."

Jazz caught him by the hand as he started to turn around, guiding him back, and pulled him into another kiss, this one slower and sweeter. Jazz lifted his hands to wrap gently around Prowl's neck, and flared his field with warm gratitude and love. "Thank you," he murmured against Prowl's lips.

"You are welcome, beloved," Prowl murmured back, heat flaring through his frame. "Energon," he pulled himself back with an effort. "We both need it."

Jazz nodded and let him go enough to be guided around, shown what he could use and important paths around the servant section. By the time they were under the washracks, Jazz wanted nothing more than to be clean and recharging against Prowl's side.

He shuttered his optics and turned his face up into the wonderfully hot rinse and really, truly relaxed, then hummed softly when he felt Prowl press up behind him.

"You are still beautiful, my Jazz," Prowl's voice was low, a tone that sent a shiver of desire strait to Jazz's valve. Those lovely hands, now a nearly black shade of green, slid along Jazz's hips in a caress that left no questions as Prowl kissed his neck. "You will always be beautiful."

Jazz gasped softly and tilted his head away, lifting his hands to cover Prowl's as he leaned back against him. The words sent a shiver down his frame and calmed something in his processors that he hadn't even realized was bothering him before then. "Love your voice," he murmured, slowly dipping down before sliding back up against his lover. "Could listen to you talk forever."

A low moan and flare of pleasure answered his rubbing and Prowl slid one hand forward, cupping it lightly over Jazz's spike cover. "May I listen to your pleasure for a while, before indulging you some more?"

Jazz stilled as his vents hitched involuntarily. It made sense that with a completely rebuilt frame, he would have a spike now, but that thought had been nowhere near anything flagged as relevant, and it hadn't even occurred to him. He hesitated for a moment, remembering Vortex-

It was irrational, illogical, and he had no reason to be worried, and yet... "Hurt last time," he said softly.

"I know, love," Prowl's voice was a gentle, reassuring coo as his fingers played across the cover, not demanding but trying to entice. "I'm not him. I want to show you your spike can feel good."

"I know it can," Jazz said, annoyed by his own reluctance. He'd spent a vorn dedicating himself to pleasing one spike, and had heard and felt for himself just how good it could make a mech feel.

He tried to get his frame to relax again, tried to shove away the only memory he had of this, and forced himself to look down so he could believe it wasn't Vortex's fingers tracing the around the plating and making him shiver like this. He x-vented slowly. "Okay," he whispered, more to himself than Prowl, and released the grip he had on the cover's unlocking sequence. It clicked open and slid back immediately, and the tremor that went up his spine had nothing to do with Prowl's fingers.

Yet another chapter with graphic smut. Read on Ao3  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1254006


	12. Sinking In

Yet another chapter with graphic smut. Read on Ao3  
archiveofourown dot org/works/637909/chapters/1254007

Starcrossed 12: Sinking In  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz booted slowly, feeling rested and peaceful for the first time in so long. His first thought upon waking was not wondering where Vortex was-although he noted with a bit of a frown that there was pressure against the block again, even though it was nowhere near the levels it had been before-or what horrors he might have to deal with in the coming orn. Right now, the near future seemed to hold nothing but gentle recovery while they rested here. And while he looked forward to interfacing as often as he pleased with Prowl, Jazz found himself most anticipating just being able to _talk_ to him again, for joors at a time.

He trilled softly when the final systems all came online and he found himself in much the same position he remembered falling into recharge in. He was fully enveloped by a protective wing, curled up next to a welcome and warm frame. He snuggled closer, tucking against Prowl and trilling again, wondering if the Praxian might rouse with him. Prowl showed no signs of booting, and Jazz sent a questioning ping. It bounced back immediately with a medical alert attached to it. Prowl desperately needed more recharge right now. A _lot_ more recharge.

Jazz hummed to himself. He was online already, didn't need more recharge at the moment, and there was an entire estate to walk around. He was most excited to explore the servants' halls, something he had sought for unsuccessfully in his creators' estates. Probably for the best, he mused, looking back. He would have caused so much mayhem with those, and possibly gotten himself grounded for the majority of most metacycles, which would have meant seeing less of Prowl.

Then again, Jazz smiled to himself as he looked at the recharging features, maybe that threat would have been deterrent enough.

He roused after several more kliks of enjoying the feeling of being pressed up against Prowl's frame, went into storage to refuel and refill his own cubes, and set off to explore the estate. The better part of two orns was spent walking all of the empty hallways and peering into as many rooms as he could before his systems pinged at him to let him know that recharge would be favorable to the newsparks. He headed back to the room where Prowl was still resting and curled back up with him, hoping that this time, when he booted, Prowl would be online.

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When Prowl finally onlined, Jazz was snuggled against him and deep in peaceful recharge. As much as Prowl didn't want to move, after nearly four orns without twitching a cable, his systems wanted energon more than recharge. Reluctantly he shifted, moving as carefully as his weak systems could manage so not to disturb Jazz. He wouldn't be gone long. There was no reason to rouse the carrier. He just needed to get to the storeroom, drink a cube and get back on the berth. He still needed a lot of recharge. He just needed energy more at the moment.

Walking down to the storeroom, Prowl quickly calculated how much his systems should be able to handle at the moment-somewhere around sixty percent capacity, possibly more if he didn't feel any overcharged affects from that amount-and looked at the shelves for the proper sized cube to reach that level.

He found the correct one and walked back into the entryway and found himself standing in the middle of it as he sipped, careful not to introduce too much energon into his tanks at once. He looked around at the quiet hallways and started imagining the bustle that would be here in just under two metacycles, once the Lords, their creations, and their serving staff arrived for the hunting season. His half-brother would be taking up the seneschal post at that point, and before long, Prowl's processors were whizzing through the ornly duties that would be involved in that, everything from scheduling the equipment to be procured and cleaned to overseeing proper storage of any game that was caught, whether still functional or deactivated.

When he was halfway through the process of preserving the living color of a turbofox for proper display, Prowl stopped and checked his chronometer. He'd been standing there for more than a breem, staring at the wall without even seeing it. The cube was empty in his hand.

He'd meant to return to their berth and curl back up around Jazz again, why was he still standing here?

Processors that had been pushed to their very max and almost beyond for nearly a vorn straight dove hungrily on the question with a frantic need to _do_ something that almost made Prowl gasp. They chewed it up in nanokliks.

Simply, he didn't know how to not be thinking anymore. For more than a vorn he'd been planning, making contacts, arranging meetings, working out plans to the joor, never stopping because of the virus that prevented him from shutting down to recharge and run system maintenance. Not even a nanoklik went by that he wasn't working on something, because if he ever allowed himself to slow down the horror of the situation he found himself in would bury him completely. Even when he was being tortured, something was _always_ running, even if it was just a single line of code, writing a letter one fragment of a glyph at a time.

And now...

Jazz was in recharge, plans were set into motion, back-up plans were prepared and waiting, contingencies for everything had been reviewed and confirmed. There was nothing to do but stand here and look at the wall.

Or recharge. He could recharge again, but he wasn't sure he knew how to initiate it anymore. It was such an alien concept after a vorn, to spend so much time not working, not thinking. He'd only recharged the last four orns because of automated protocols.

So all he really had to do was stand here, staring at a wall.

Prowl shuddered, disturbed by that on a level he couldn't quite place. He had planned this all out, why should it bother him? He looked around again. He could walk anywhere within this estate, look at anything he wanted to, do anything available.

Free.

Jazz had murmured it right before falling into recharge, peaceful and sated, but right now, the glyph was anything but for Prowl. Yes, they were free, and for the first time in his entire existence, he didn't need to be composed or in control or working.

A different line of thought branched off from the first. Yes, they were free, but at what cost?

Prowl could have gotten free and disappeared very early, he had enough friends and the processors for it. And simply put, Jazz didn't.

Prowl had stayed for Jazz, Jazz had killed for Prowl. Over and over, every time he needed something more. Prowl could have been gone, the construct could have become Jazz, and they could have both been content with their existences.

Prowl shuddered again and mentally shook himself. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't Jazz's fault. Ultimately, the lost sparks, adult and sparkling, were on Vortex and the manipulative pain games he took such pleasure in.

But knowing that, as logical and simple as it was, did nothing to stop the increasing tremors in his frame, or stop the way his vents were hitching. He lifted a hand to his spark. He shouldn't be upset. That Pit of existence was over, done, in the past. He had Jazz curled up in _his_ berth, carrying _his_ twins-so why was he on his knees, why couldn't he move, why could he hear himself sobbing and screaming, why did he feel so guilty and wrecked?

What was _wrong_ with him?

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz booted, still feeling wonderfully rested and calm, but he became aware very quickly that something was different. No comforting field was meshed with his own, and there was no warm frame right next to him. His optics flickered on and he reached out, feeling the berth where Prowl had been. It was cold, Prowl hadn't been there for a while.

::Prowl?:: Jazz asked, and waited, but no reply came. ::Prowl!:: he tried again, sitting up.

Confusion flared to panic before Jazz could remind himself that if Prowl's comms were gone, he would receive an undeliverable error, and if Prowl had somehow deactivated... well, he didn't actually know for sure, but he would guess it would be the same thing. So it was okay, he just needed to find him.

Jazz got up and checked the hallway, then headed down for the entryway, thinking maybe Prowl was in the storeroom and had just gotten distracted by something. He turned a corner-

The dark green and silver frame was slumped in the middle of the area, unmoving. "Prowl!" Jazz said, and rushed forward, dropping to his knees, grabbing Prowl's shoulder. The field didn't feel like recharge, it felt flat and unresponsive, what little he could find to teek.

There was still a field, there was still color in the frame. Jazz grabbed his spiraling panic and _wrenched_, forcing himself to calm down as much as he could. "Prowl?" he asked again.

He shook his love by the shoulder and felt the field flare in confusion, reflexively trying to ID the cause of the movement. It was so smooth, and it suddenly registered where he knew that feeling from.

It was stasis, like when Prowl was bring rebuilt, and he was coming out of it. At least partially.

Jazz stilled and ran his hand up and down Prowl's arm before carefully lifting him and shifting him out of the uncomfortable looking slump. It was strange to have enough strength to move him fairly easily, even though it was still awkward with the wings.

He got Prowl settled on his back and leaned over him, pressing a hand to the side of his face and stroking his thumb over the jaw. "You okay?" he asked, not even sure if Prowl could hear him. "You with me?"

Ice blue optics lit, weakly. Slowly, the controls seeming almost foreign, Prowl managed to turn his helm to face Jazz. His vocalizer took several tries to initialize, and longer to find the commands to make more than random static to come out.

"Jazz?"

"Yeah, it's me," Jazz said, looking his lover up and down. "Are you okay?"

"I..." he paused, then winced as the content of two comm messages were delivered. "I scared you. I'm sorry." He leaned into his mate. "I just went to get some energon so I could recharge again."

"The berth wouldn't have cooled in the time it took you to get energon, and that _wasn't_ recharge," Jazz said, while he pressed his field forward reassuringly in response to the apology. "What happened? Do we need to get to a medic?"

Prowl shook his helm firmly. "I have a pit of a processor ache, but everything's coming up green. I ... believe that is what happens when I stop planning now."

Jazz stared at him. "You _crash_ if you're not planning?" he asked, the worry obvious in his voice.

"That ... if what I can recall of what happened prior to the crash is accurate, yes," Prowl answered weakly and attempted to stand, bracing himself against Jazz as he worked to reacquaint himself with his frame commands. "I need energon, recharge and a solid defrag right now. Otherwise, I appear to be fine."

Jazz moved to help him, fretting, and pressed a cube into his hands as soon as he was upright. "But... before we went into recharge, in the washrack, and the berth," he said quietly. "You weren't planning then?"

"That was an automatic shutdown because my systems required it," Prowl murmured, uneasy about everything that passed through his processors in the kliks before the crash. "No, I wasn't planning, but I wasn't aware either. I don't remember how to shut down on my own."

Jazz stiffened. "Prowl," he said, very softly, touching their helms together, hands on his chest. He didn't know how to respond to that, so he pressed the question he still didn't understand. "What I mean is... you weren't planning while we were interfacing, right? And you didn't crash then, you were fine, you were relaxed."

"I was," Prowl shook his helm slightly. "Even when Vortex had me so torn apart I couldn't move and only knew _pain_, I was still working. Yes, I was working when we interfaced. In the background, almost beneath notice, but I was working. I'm working now. Picked up the moment I began to boot up."

"So what happened?" Jazz asked, still worried by his lover's decision that he didn't need a medic. "If interface-if _that_ interface-wasn't enough to make you stop working, what happened this time?"

"I ... I allowed my processors to wander as I drank, " Prowl said, recalling, and recited the memory as it came to him. "I was thinking of what these halls would look like when the nobles and their staff arrived. Going over what my half-brother would be doing when he arrived, preparing for the hunting season. I was about halfway through the process of how to preserve the living color of a turbofox for proper display when I noticed that I'd been standing still for more than a breem, empty cube in hand, staring at the wall without even seeing it. I hadn't moved, hadn't registered that I hadn't moved. My frame wasn't even an afterthought. I was lost in something..." he shuddered, his frame curling in on itself slightly as the emotional pain began to rise again.

Jazz gripped his shoulders as the pain spiked and flared against him and pressed his field back, as calm and soothing as he could make it, hiding his bewilderment that standing still could cause that kind of upset. "Hey, shh, I'm here," he murmured, and brought one hand up to stroke Prowl's helm. "It's okay, we're safe, I'm here!"

Pale blue optics had gone nearly white in Prowl's distress as he worked to focus on Jazz. He'd done all this for Jazz, to _have_ Jazz.

Oh Primus, what _had_ he done?

Trembling again, a tiny sound of horror escaped his vocalizer and he felt the shutdown threatening if he didn't control himself. There. That was it. The emotions were the trigger. Out of control emotions. Emotions that became too strong. That was what shut him down.

His vents wide open, gasping for air, Prowl made a few quick edits to his code. All emotional content over the thirty percent of maximum would be shunted to a deletion spool without being processed.

It was ugly. On a level he knew he was mutilating himself. He didn't have much choice now. It was the least of his crimes.

While Jazz shook him and tried to get his attention, Prowl focused outward again. "I'm sorry. I worked out what caused the crash. Excessive emotional output."

Jazz was giving him an alarmed look, having felt the rapid _upset-distress-horror-fear_ starting to spiral out of control before plummeting, and not in a natural, controlled way, but in a short, artificial cut.

"Excessive emotional output?" Jazz repeated. His optics widened. "Prowl, what did you just _do?_"

"I inserted a protocol that shunts all emotional levels over 30% to a deletion spool so I am not overwhelmed again," Prowl said gently. "This is better than crashing every time I process difficult things."

Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl and pulled him flush, holding tightly. "Are you okay now?"

"I ... will be," he murmured, warmth returning to his field as he slid his arms around Jazz and held him. He tucked his helm against Jazz's neck and relaxed there. "I did not mean to frighten you with any of this. The reality of what we did, and what I could have done differently, finally hit me."

Jazz sighed, shivered, and tried not to think about everything he'd done. "We're here, that's what matters," he said. "Come back to the berth with me."

"Yes, it is all that matters. We are together and we will remain that way," Prowl said firmly and lifted his helm to kiss Jazz softly. "Yes, I want to be in the berth with you. Always with you."

Jazz shivered again for entirely different reasons as they made their way back to their berth, sinking down with his lover and curling up in the warm, welcome caress of his field.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz began to boot to the very pleasant sensations of gentle hands stroking his plating and the warmth of Prowl's field meshed with his, several orns after he'd found Prowl collapsed in the entryway and one recharge cycle later.

He hummed contentedly and arched into the touch, curling closer to Prowl as the sequence finished. "Could get used to this too," he murmured, basking in the simple joy of onlining next to Prowl.

"I would enjoy that very much," Prowl purred as his hands slid along his lover's flanks, taking his time to rouse Jazz's interest despite the intensity of his own.

Blue optics finally flickered on and Jazz's hum turned decidedly more mischievous when he caught the flickers of arousal in his lover's field. He reached out to mirror Prowl's touch on his frame. "You're all right?" he asked, needing that answer before anything else.

"Yes," Prowl assured him with a kiss. "The defrag cycle was very helpful. There's still a lot to go, but the rest can be handled in regular recharge cycles."

"Oh good," Jazz said, and slid his hands up to cup Prowl's face and pulled him into another kiss. He grinned into it and hooked a leg around Prowl's waist, tugging. "And I can spend plenty of time wearing you out enough to recharge," he added in a purr that earned him a shiver of desire and another kiss as strong hands caressed his back. With little warning Prowl shifted to his back, already long familiar with how to maneuver with wings from when he had doorwings.

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	13. Tyger Pax

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**Starcrossed 13: Tyger Pax**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl did one final check of their supplies as he looked around the space that had meant safety and peace for the first time in so long. In addition to drinking as much as they could physically handle and still drive, they'd each packed as much energon and valuable consumables as they could into their subspace pockets. Prowl had a list of how much could be missing from each shelf and each storeroom before it raised alarms when the staff was sent ahead to determine what was needed for the coming season. Which, really, was very little at all. So as long as they left a decaorn's worth for the small staff coming to inventory and clean, no one would question the exact amount. His half-brother had also given him a list of small valuables that wouldn't be missed, so those were stashed away as well.

Between them, they were carrying a small fortune in their subspace. At least, a small fortune for the class of mecha they were now: common transient workers.

Prowl missed his wings, but the heavy industrial frame he wore with little adornment and even less appeal in dark, muddy greens was far more suited to their cover. Even Jazz's frame, though it was more elegant than his with long slender arms and a bit of color, was a solidly industrial design. Just meant for different work than Prowl's. Jazz was going to do repetitive, fiddly work. Prowl, if he couldn't get something in accounting, inventory or management was going to do basic grunt work. Probably on the docks.

Jazz came up behind him and ran his fingers over Prowl's shoulders, then wrapped his arms around them and squeezed. "I'll miss this place," he said. "A decaorn of nothing to think about but where you were and how quickly I could get you into berth."

Prowl chuckled and leaned into the contact lightly. "I will miss it as well. It is likely the best living we'll have in a very long time to come. Are you ready to travel?"

Jazz nuzzled against the back of Prowl's helm. "Ready in the sense that I am physically prepared and capable, yes."

"The rest won't come with time," Prowl turned and kissed him softly, allowing the embrace they both craved to happen. "I know. If it was feasible, I would gladly join this household or any number of others. But we must make our own way, for the sake of our sparklings."

"I know," Jazz sighed, hand coming up over his spark, where he could feel both the presence of the newsparks and Vortex's increasingly focused pressure against the block. "All right. Let's go." He paused, then pulled Prowl into one more deep, lingering kiss. "_Now_ let's go," he said, grinning, as he stepped away and palmed open the door.

Prowl laughed, an intentional effort to make himself look less like himself and followed his lover out. They transformed smoothly and drove to the main road to Tyger Pax in comfortable silence. It would be a long drive, almost half way around the planet, but it was a very well traveled one by all kinds of mecha moving to and from the industrial core of Cybertron. It was an easy mass to become lost in and it made them both relax a bit.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was two weary, travel-filthy mecha who finally made it through the door of the apartment-if it could be called that, with a single berth, a scant amount of storage space, and no washracks. They would have to find the public washracks later, but right now, the need to rest and refuel was more important.

"Getting worse," Jazz said, leaning heavily against the wall as he pulled a cube and started downing it. Prowl wrapped his arms in support of the much lighter looking but no less light mech.

"I'll see what I can do," Prowl kissed the side of his helm gently. "There are options, even if they aren't good ones."

"I just need recharge," Jazz said, shaking his head, knowing what those options were. He finished the cube and sighed when it didn't quiet the fuel alerts, pulling another. "Just recharge. I'll be fine."

Prowl caressed Jazz's cheek. "Are you sure?"

Jazz turned gratefully into the touch, resting against his lover, field flaring out quiet gratitude. " Yes. Already feels better now that I'm not driving." He drank half the cube, saw the alert switch off, and offered the rest to Prowl.

Prowl accepted it but caught his lover's mouth in a warm, undemanding kiss full of affection before drawing away enough to down the rest. He noted with no small amount of relief that his levels were at 71% and he didn't feel ill. He could try pushing it to 73% when they got up. "Then let's recharge together. That drive was a long time not to hold you."

Jazz hummed in agreement, wanting just the same thing, as he was guided to the simple metal sheet with the thinnest of shaving mattresses to press up against his love and recharge.

It was an evening cycle that become almost ritual as they began to seek work in the industrial core of their world. Must as Prowl had anticipated, mecha physically capable of doing fine detail work were well below demand here and Jazz was quickly offered a contract of reasonable terms for his efforts. Prowl did not have such an easy time. Specialties such as his were few, and typically handed down to apprentices, not part of the open job market. So after more than a full decaorn of trying every factory and business he could find, when the foremech of a warehouse told him that he didn't have any openings Prowl wanted, but he did need labor on the dock, Prowl took it.

His first orn made him ache as much as a full-frame rebuild. It was the first time since their escape that he hadn't been able to rouse enough interest when Jazz had caressed him to respond. The second and third orns weren't much better. His fourth orn on the job had gotten him noticed by both his coworkers and the foremech when he'd quietly suggested a way to organize the dock trucks so things moved faster.

By the tenth orn he was sure he had enough credibility to make a bid for the supply apprentice position if the current one stopped showing up. The mech was a bit of a lost processor already, and it wouldn't seem too out of character for him to get worse.

He was pondering that, sitting on the berth, when Jazz walked in. He paused at the door for long enough to lock it, before he crossed over and sat next to Prowl, nuzzling him. "You look worn out," Jazz murmured.

"I am learning to truly despise manual labor," Prowl grumbled, leaning into the contact. "It will be in the past soon, I hope."

"Mm, my sexy lover has a plan," Jazz hummed, and nipped at Prowl's jaw. He twisted at the waist, dropping his mouth down alongside Prowl's neck, kissing and nibbling as he went. His hand slid over to brush the inside of Prowl's thigh. "Too busy thinking?" he asked quietly, offering Prowl an easy out into recharge if his lover was too tired and didn't want to admit it.

"No," Prowl turned his face towards Jazz and caught him in a warm kiss. "I have the energy for a little fun, if you'll be on top."

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	14. Last Resorts

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**Starcrossed 14: Last Resorts**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl looked around the warehouse, doing a final unnecessary confirmation that everything was in good order, and logged out of the inventory systems.

Jazz's last shift had been the previous orn, and his mate had been recharging in their small apartment since then, trying to gather as much of his strength as he could for the drive to Crystal City. He operated best the quarter orn following recharge, and had worked out a schedule with his boss for the last three decaorn that allowed him to break his shift into two parts with a longer recharge break in the middle. The mech had been agreeable-Jazz was a quick worker when he wasn't too worn out-and had even told Jazz that if he had an opening when they got back to Tyger Pax, it was his. Prowl's position was guaranteed, the foremech had all but begged him not to leave for even a short while.

"Susun! Hey, Susun!"

Prowl turned and saw the now-familiar pink femme running towards him, waving her hand. He stopped and waited.

"I heard someone say you're quitting?" she asked, looking pleadingly at him. "Is it the pay? I'm sure Ostati will give you a bonus, things haven't run this smooth in forever!"

"Nothing of the sort," Prowl assured her. "I hope to be back in a decaorn or two. Tansi's carry is a very difficult one and we need to visit a specialist in Iacon. I was warned that the testing and treatment, whatever it is, may take time. We intend to return when he is healthy again."

Her optics spiraled wide. "Oh, I didn't know, I'm so sorry," she said, and touched his shoulder with a sympathetic field. "They'll be all right, though, Tansi and the sparkling?"

"That is our hope," Prowl nodded, accepting her sympathy with warm thanks. "It's a long drive and a heavy debt otherwise. I can't lose them."

Ariel smiled warmly at him. "You make sure you come back," she said. "I can't wait to meet that sparkling, seems like no one has sparklings anymore." She sighed, shaking her head. "I'd love a sparkling but Orion goes on about how we need to wait until the economy starts to get better and how we have a responsibility to make the best life we can for any creations. I say now or never, you two are doing it right."

"I'm not one to meddle in the affairs of others, but you have the income to raise a sparkling well, if you are careful and continue to work hard," Prowl smiled at her. "There are too few sparklings, but there is too little work," he shook his helm. "I hope things work out for you and Orion as well. It would be nice for ours to have a playmate, if you win this argument." He gave her an honest, though stressed smile. "I need to go now. Tansi can only travel a few joors before resting and refueling. We need to make the most of it."

She hugged him. "Well travel safe, all three of you," she said, and stepped back to give him a stern look. "And you come back soon."

"We will see you when we can," Prowl promised without promising anything and transformed to gather his love for the painfully slow journey to Crystal City where Mucit would install the spark bond blocker. If all went well, they'd be back in a decaorn or less. If it didn't, they wouldn't be back for centuries, and never as Susun and Tansi.

He drove quickly to their apartment complex, though careful to remain within the law. The last thing he needed right now was to be pulled over and ticketed, or worse.

Jazz was starting to rouse by the time he returned and had gotten his first cube of jet high grade out. He subspaced the half that was left when Prowl walked in and stretched before rising to greet his mate with a kiss that was returned with arousal, stress and warm relief.

"I have a job when we return," Prowl murmured when they parted, though it was only enough to rest their helms together in the ancient greeting and intimacy from a time when their kind did not yet wear armor. "This apartment will be held. It's good here."

Jazz smiled and hummed. "It is good here," he said, echoing flickers of arousal, love, and welcome in his field. "I'm ready."

With a final quick kiss, Prowl turned and lead his love to the street and towards the main thoroughfare towards the northern territories. Towards Iacon.

Once away from the city they followed a simple turnaround on a smaller avenue that cut past Tyger Pax's limits, through a residency, and then joined up with the much larger highway that would take them southeast to Crystal City.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Eleven orns.

It was the longest drive Jazz could recall. It would have been half that or less if they hadn't had to stop so many times an orn for him to rest. Sometimes the best they could do was pull to the side of the road and he'd recharge in alt mode while Prowl stood watch. Most of the time Prowl found them a berth, even if it wasn't much of one.

Right now they were in one of the nicer rooms they'd rented on the journey. Nicer because they both needed the recharge and refueling very badly after so much driving and then shifting to new forms. This time they were both mid-sized grounders again, but with the more elegant lines that Crystal City favored so they wouldn't stand out here. Even Prowl wanted nothing more than to drop into recharge when his frame settled. Jazz was happy to go with that thought.

Now Jazz was reluctantly rousing from recharge, not by an alarm or for energon, but by the nuzzling and gentle strokes of his lover.

He answered with a soft hum as his vocalizer booted up. The next stretch of the journey would be their last, and time wasn't as pressing of an issue as it had been when they'd first started out.

His optics flickered on and he immediately looked for the familiar optics in the new face, armor warming under the soft touches as he nuzzled back in greeting. The nuzzle turned into a kiss as Prowl's hand slid up to caress over his spark.

"Have enough energy to be pleasured?" Prowl purred softly.

Jazz shivered under the touch. He could still feel Vortex and whatever the Pit-spawned rotor was doing to the blocks, but right after recharge when his energy was at its highest, Jazz could almost pretend like he wasn't there sometimes. And if Prowl was distracting him... even better.

"I still think this is your way of getting me used to the new frames as quickly as possible without me realizing that it's productive," he teased, shifting and pressing their thighs together.

"So long as it works," Prowl chuckled, a deep resonance washing over Jazz as hands worked lower.

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	15. Simfur

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**Starcrossed 15: Simfur**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simfur was another long drive, but with Prowl's credits, and the few Jazz had made, they had enough energon to recover from shifting to new frames - back to more generic grounder frames, similar to the ones they'd worn in Tyger Pax but of different models, dark colors helping them blend in with the industrial city - and make the journey.

It didn't leave them with much when they arrived, but it was enough to get started. They needed work, doing whatever they could find as soon as possible, but before that, they needed rest, and for that, they needed a room. Credit-per-joor hotels, the cheapest ones, were located deep within the city's poorest districts, where one look down an alley had Jazz praying they would get to the selected hotel without incident.

When dark frames stepped out from the shadows and blocked their path, he wondered why he'd ever thought they could get even that much of a break, and transformed into root mode at the same time as Prowl, looking warily at the group. He recognized Prowl's stance as a basic self-defense one from watching the House guards spar, though he knew his lover knew very little beyond a few basic moves. It was still more than Jazz knew, and Prowl had the larger, heavier frame. Carrier protocols also put Jazz behind him, the need to protect the lives dependent on him stronger than his need to stand next to his love.

"Never seen you two around here before," one of them said, stepping forward enough into the scant amount of light there was, optics glowing red and denta bared in a vicious grin. "You picked the wrong gutters to sight see in."

His hand shifted out from behind his back, and was that a _blaster?_ Jazz realized suddenly, staring at the weapon. The grins and snickers from the gang showed how much his reaction must have been obvious.

Prowl made a small but flawless move to protect Jazz more with his own chassis, one hand back to help him keep track of his mate when he didn't have doorwings to do the job.

"What do you want?" Prowl growled softly, processor hard at work judging the blaster for type, strength and effect against his grade of armor.

"There's a price to be 'round here," came a hiss from behind them, and Jazz spun, pressing his back to Prowl's, as three more of the gang crept out, blocking the only possible escape route.

"And not so much a price as everything you've got," the first sneered, stepping forward, optics sweeping dismissively over the pair and Prowl's basic stance, holding his hand out.

::Sharp-:: Jazz commed, careful to use Prowl's designation for this city. ::There isn't a way past them.::

::We survive.:: Prowl replied firmly with the first and last priority. ::Everything else can be replaced.::

Against all sense in that statement, Prowl made a lighting fast move, catching the blaster out of the leader's hand and snapping off three shots behind him, clearing the way for Jazz to run.

::Transform. Go!:: Prowl snarled over the comm as he moved to finish turning, the now depleted blaster crushed in his hand.

"You little-!" was all Jazz had time to hear before he transformed and shot away as fast as he could, coding to protect the newsparks driving the action that left his lover behind. He heard the sound of another transforming and prayed it was Prowl, but when he looked, it was one of the gang splitting off from the main group to follow after him, and behind that, the rest had fallen in on Prowl.

Jazz cursed as his attention was torn back to his pursuer, who was gaining on him faster than he could get away. The other had the more streamlined design and the speed advantage. Jazz knew the way they'd come in was a bad option, it led right to a heavy traffic area where he would almost certainly cause a crash, and that would endanger the newsparks just as much as getting caught, if not more.

He skimmed ahead, saw an alley, and engaged his brakes while cutting his wheels, scraping his side sharply against the corner before he got around it, hoping the mech behind him wouldn't be able to follow the move quickly enough.

The sharp squeal of brakes and the mech shot past, but Jazz had to slam on his own brakes a moment later when he came up right against a dead end and transformed, coming to a skidding stop just before slamming into the wall. Headlights casting his shadow forward told him the pursuer had backtracked and followed, and the light shifted with the sound of transforming. Jazz scrambled to his pedes, back against the wall, and snarled at the heavy build as it advanced.

"Here kitten," the mech purred, "Got me all revved up now, haven't you."

"Go slag yourself," Jazz hissed, looking for the vulnerable fuel lines in the neck. He was tall enough, if he could get at one and tear it open, and a strike centered in one of the hip joints could cause extreme pain if that option failed. He waited, watching the slow approach, and when the mech was close enough, he shot up and lunged.

But the mech was prepared for him and easily countered the attempted attack, grabbing both wrists and throwing Jazz down, pushing him hard into the pavement. Jazz knew how to _hurt_ if his prey was bound, but he didn't know how to fight. A knee ground into his chest and Jazz froze, an instinctive reaction in response to a threat against his spark chamber. The soft whine of a blaster powering up came before he felt it pressed against his helm, and Jazz was yanked up to his pedes and dragged all the way back, compliant, unwilling to endanger the newsparks by struggling against the weapon.

He heard it before he saw it, the sound of grunting and the harsh grate of metal against metal, and when he was thrown forward onto his hands and knees and his helm forced up, he saw Prowl on his back, unresisting, optics dimmed almost completely offline, pinned down by three of them

And this is all FFN gets. Want to read the rest? Head over to Ao3  
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	16. Joining the Underworld

Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.  
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .  
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Starcrossed 16: Joining the Underworld  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drift worked not to pace or glare at his boss. He didn't like having nothing to do, especially not when his leader was around. It made him feel useless and he couldn't stand it. The knowing, amused way she kept looking at him now and then only deepened the sensation of annoyance. Most would be surprised that he didn't attack her, but few understood how Drift functioned. Engineer did. She'd won his loyalty back when she was a second lieutenant with a mixture of kindness, steady behavior, common sense and success. Though she was nothing like Gasket, she was everything like the long-gone guttersmech in all the ways that ways that mattered to Drift.

Right now, however, she was annoying him and seemed amused by it.

"He didn't seem anything spectacular," Drift grumbled, more to have something to complain about than anything else. He knew why his boss wanted this one who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, but right now, he was just frustrated with her glances and the waiting. He never had waited well.

"Processors like his rarely do," the deep glossy green femme purred. Her relatively light frame hid a similar processor. It was her smarts, not her frame, that had gotten her where she was and kept her there. "I have no doubt that he was designed to be in the shadows, controlling the strings that allowed his master to do what he pleased. Did you learn anything of why he ran?"

"No," Drift said. "Said what you told me to, and it caught his attention, that's all." He shifted on his pedes, watching the same monitors as she was. "Called his mate simple and he barely reacted. He's agreeable to 'facing mecha he barely knows for fun. I'm not sure there's any leverage there."

"Perhaps," she hummed, watching as the dark mid-sized alt mode drove up. "Reports do say that he's quite protective of his mate. Or at least the creation his mate is carrying. Either way, threats are not the way to keep a mech as good as he is and able to run bound to you. Like you, he wants stability and strength to stand behind. I'm sure of it. I'll win him the same way I won you."

Drift huffed a bit. As much as he didn't want to think about it as being won over, that was what she'd done. And she'd done it expertly, too. "I still like to know leverage points," he said. He was here as a familiar face for the new potential processor and to guard his boss against the slim possibility that Sharp was law or an enemy.

That seemed like a very unlikely possibility, though. The pair had seemed honestly clueless in a way that was hard to fake when they'd first arrived. "Just in case," he added.

"Leverage is always a good thing," Engineer purred. "The bugs in their apartment will provide that soon enough."

"He doesn't look surprised he was tailed," Drift observed as they watched Prowl transform and turn to look at the mech he couldn't see. Prowl cocked his helm, waiting.

"No," Engineer hummed thoughtfully. ::Viper, show him in.::

::Sure thing Boss.::

They couldn't see Viper on the same screen as Prowl, but they could tell the moment Prowl saw the lithe guard, and as Engineer reached out to toggle the viewscreen, they both came into view.

Prowl followed Viper through the hallways of their minor intel center. Carefully chosen to be showy, but not to allow the grounder access to any location that could not be quickly wiped clean and abandoned without trouble. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking, other than he was taking in everything and not hiding that fact.

The door to the room slid open and Viper stepped aside so Prowl could look in.

"Do come in, Sharp," Engineer smiled at him. His wariness was a good thing, so long as it didn't create a problem. Some level of paranoia was a survival trait in the underworld. "I am Engineer, Drift's boss."

Prowl took them both in and she was pleased to note that he did not dismiss her for her small, light frame. Then he stepped inside and continued to look around even as he walked up to her, stopping outside easy teeking range but within reasonable speaking range.

"Drift indicated you are interested in hiring me," Prowl said simply, he focus on Engineer.

"Yes, more if you prove worth it," she nodded, easily rolling with the terms he used, even though they belong to another culture. "I know you can kill and break in without leaving much trace, but you don't want that kind of work." She paused when he nodded, accepting the confirmation. "What are your skills that would not be so risky to use?"

"I'm very good with credits, planning, organization, inventory," Prowl rattled off what he hoped were his useful skills.

"You were a high level manager," Engineer summarized, noting the tension hit and then leave him. "Security systems?"

"Easy enough," Prowl nodded.

"Sit, study, tell me what you think," she motioned to the station in the room and turned to settle in one of the plush chairs to watch.

Drift shifted to be between the newcomer and Engineer, getting a better look at him up close and in better light, confirming his suspicions. He couldn't understand a single glyph on the screens that Prowl was rapidly skimming through, but he understood strength and frames, and his suspicions were confirmed.

Prowl hid it well, but his frame was strong, good material. What Drift couldn't understand was how a combat class frame like that had ended up being overpowered in the middle of the street, and why he looked as drab as he did. One needed credits, or connections, and who would get a frame like that without getting the combat protocols that could have gotten them both out of there?

Drift scowled. He had only heard about that attack after the fact, when one of the gang members had been dragged in for Engineer to interrogate once she had heard about the odd newcomer in their territory, and he didn't know how reliable the report was.

If he could get this one into berth, it would give him a much better idea of how he moved and what kind of strength he had. Few mecha realized how much they gave away about themselves in that sort of activity.

"This looks like a credit cleaning system," the mech said, and next to him, Engineer purred with pleasure. Drift didn't know how the credits worked, but he knew from the outside, the system was designed to not look like what it was.

"What would you change in it?" Engineer asked, and the conversation abruptly went way over Drift's helm. Half the words they used he didn't even know, but the two of them did, and Engineer was pleased. Right now, all he could do was watch the newcomer, pretend he wasn't as annoyed as he was by not understanding what they were talking about, and wait. He hated guard duty.

Eventually, an eternity later to Drift, Engineer stood. "I am impressed, Sharp. Drift will pay you for the orn and entertain you until your mate finishes dancing. We will discuss the terms of your employment tomorrow."

Prowl nodded, standing from the station smoothly. "Agreed."

The two mechs watched her leave, then Prowl looked at Drift.

Drift grinned back at him. "So," he said. "Boss likes what she sees, which is good enough for me. We have high grade here, great quality, or I can always take you back to the club. I'd hate to do that, though."

Prowl chuckled. "High grade and pleasure is a more entertaining way to pass a couple joors."

"I always thought so," Drift said cheerfully. "Follow me, then," he said, and led Prowl back out into the hallways, sticking to the main routes as he made his way deeper into the building, deliberately leading Prowl past the slave storage rooms just to see his reaction.

Nothing.

Mech just didn't give anything. Drift hoped a few joors figuring his frame out would break some of that composure. At least it would be an entertaining way to spend the afternoon. One of the spare berthrooms was their destination. It was simple by Drift's current standard, but far nicer than the space Prowl was currently calling home. The berth was large and soft, with covers and pillows. Drift could feel Prowl look around, judging the place, but the mech gave no hint of what it thought of it.

"So tell me," Drift rumbled, coming up behind the smaller mech and running his hands down the frame, getting his first good feel of the construction. "Just between us, how do I know you aren't a threat?"

"You know I'm not worth much in a fight," Prowl answered simply, leaning willingly into the touch. It was a couple lifetimes ago since he'd had a lover other than Jazz. "Other than that, you don't. Just as I don't know if you intend anything other than what you stated."

"True," Drift said, and flexed claws out, pressing against the armor, testing its give as he pulled up along the sides. Barely a scratch with strength that should have buckled the plating of a mech of Prowl's status, and Prowl pressed into the touch with a pleasured sound. "You're not very good at not attracting attention, you know."

"Do you have any advice?" Prowl hummed, leaning back to press against Drift's chest. "I don't like drawing attention."

Drift's engines rumbled. "Making a hot scene out of yourselves in a nicer washrack two orns after you were in the gutters is a good place to start," he said, rubbing up behind him, his spike cover unlatching with an audible click but not sliding away yet.

Prowl allowed a chuckle. "That orn did not go according to plan," he admitted with a rueful tone and reached back to rub Drift's hips before one slid inward and he turned to face the other mech. "What have you got?" he purred, his fingers teasing the spike cover.

It snapped back under the touch, the tip starting to slide out, large enough to fill Prowl's palm. "Sick of being on top?" Drift chuckled, and placed his hand right in the center of Prowl's chest, and shoved back, measuring how far the medium amount of force was able to push him. He felt the mass of the frame, the lock of tension that could have resisted the move completely before it relaxed and Prowl moved with the push, willingly taking a step back towards the berth. "I can help with that."

"I'm sure you can," Prowl rumbled, excited by the prospect of a relative equal that was willing to play rough. The spike he slid his palm along was long and thick, ridged with whorls and nodules. It would feel _good_, and nothing like what Jazz felt like inside him.

Drift tried another push, this one near the top of his strength, and couldn't tell how much Prowl's backwards step was him and how much was faked, something that was irritating to the large grounder but nowhere near a turn-off. This mech still had no idea how to handle himself in a fight, so if it ever came to that, Drift could take him down.

This kind of armor would be such a waste to keep untrained, though, if Engineer could indeed win him over. Drift still wasn't sure what Prowl wanted, other than credits and safety, but he was sure he would accept combat training if it meant keeping his mate and creation safe.

Only if he could be won over, though. Drift smirked to himself as he looked down over the frame, his fully extended spike nudging up against Prowl's abdomen. There would be time later to measure threat level, once he'd felt the frame all over. For now... he could feel safe enough to lose himself in the other's frame, and he truly hoped the valve was the same high quality as the rest of him.

Compliant so far, it caught Drift a bit by surprise when Prowl moved to reverse their positions and gave Drift a light shove to the berth. Not even an effort to knock him down, just a pointed statement that he wanted Drift on his back. All right, he was willing to play. He sat and relaxed back, patting his thigh in invitation for Prowl to hop on if that was what he wanted, not bothering to tone down his leer. "Or maybe not so sick of being on top?" he chuckled.

Prowl returned the look with a bit of a smirk and straddled Drift's hips. "I got enough of being still and taking it when I got paid to." He stretched out, bracing his hands against Drift's shoulders and rubbed his platelets and valve rim along the deliciously large spike. "I know I can get off this way. It's not nearly as easy with you on top."

It felt good, but it also told Drift just how much mass was under that armor. It was definitely war-frame grade all the way down. The mech was heavy for his size, and unnaturally silent. He tensed the hydraulics in his hips, lifting himself just a fraction off the berth, pressing in, eager for a taste of something as high-quality as the rest of the frame. "So you go for what you want," he rumbled. "Good trait to have."

"Only reason I've lasted this long," Prowl rumbled, shifting and lifting his hips up before sliding down and back, nudging the large head of the spike against his valve rim before sinking down with a pleasured moan. He kept his valve relaxed, allowing the large spike to penetrate him uncontested, simply enjoying it for that first rush of sensation.

Drift held quiet and still while he moved, his frame only giving the smallest of shivers in response to being sheathed. "How long is that?" he purred once Prowl had settled himself down in his lap, twitching his hips up ever so slightly.

Prowl bought himself a moment by cycling his valve, rubbing the calipers along the complex shaft and squeezing the lining tight before continuing the cycle as he lifted up, still braced forward and fully on Drift's shoulders. It was a small act of dominance, but he was being allowed it so he took it.

"Too long," Prowl finally answered about halfway through his upward motion. "Long enough to outlast dozens of others."

Drift just relaxed and enjoyed his revving engines and the unquestionably talented valve. Reclining on one arm, he lifted his other hand and curled it around Prowl's waist, squeezing until he felt the plating dent, just barely. "You're a survivor then," he said, then groaned as Prowl paused to flex his rim right around the sensor-heavy tip of his spike. He tightened his grip, sinking claws in, testing the other's resilience to a small amount of pain in a sensitive area of his frame.

"I don't appreciate pain," Prowl's response came smoothly, without so much as a flicker in his voice, field or actions. He continued to move smoothly, his charge rising as he ensured Drift's spike rubbed him the right way.

"But you can handle it, clearly," Drift said, fighting against the desire to test that theory further. Engineer had been very clear, this one was to be wooed. He relaxed the claws, but kept his hands tight around the hips as he thrust up. "So tell me about yourself," he groaned, head falling back a little. "You know, the fun bits," he added with a smirk and a rapid upwards roll.

Prowl stilled, Drift's spike deep inside him as he regarded the mech under him for almost too long. He began to move again, still silent before he found the answer. "There are no fun bits. I don't anticipate there will be for a long time."

"I'd say this is pretty fun," Drift rumbled, tucking the unusual pause away to show Engineer later. "You certainly know what you're doing with this, at least," he said as he took a moment to enjoy the intricate rippling and the way it was pushing his charge up. "You could rival a pleasurebot with that."

"I think that says more of your existence than mine," Prowl said quietly, annoyed by this talk, but having expected it, it didn't show. "It only takes a few tries to learn, so long as you have someone you want to please."

Drift paused for a moment, the words feeling oddly like pity, something he did _not_ enjoy. "You'll find someone like that is a liability out here," he growled. "A good first lesson. Strip yourself of weakness."

"That mech is long gone," Prowl shrugged. "It is a liability anywhere."

Not a flicker of change in the field or composure, Drift noted. So either the mate didn't matter, or the mech was a damn good liar. Or both. Engineer wanted to know which one, but this obviously wasn't the way to find out.

Of course, it was all a moot point if their interests all aligned and the mech worked for them willingly, which seemed likely at this point, but Drift still liked to know anyone's weak points. He gave another quick thrust upwards. "At least you're not totally clueless," he said, more than happy at this point to just enjoy the physical sensations. He shifted experimentally, seeing if the other would be easy to roll into his back or if he would resist the move.

He was half surprised when Prowl didn't. The movement was fairly smooth, assisted by a mech who'd done it more than a few times. For his part Prowl was more than willing to go silent and simply allow Drift to get off. His spark was no longer in this any more than when he was paid. An overload was to be accepted, but not expected.

Drift settled in above him, clearly more at ease with being the one in control, judging from the way his frame started rocking harder almost as soon as Prowl was on his back. One hand stayed on Prowl's hip, holding for leverage, and the other came up to curl around his helm as Drift's taller frame brought Prowl's face level with the other mech's neck. "Much better," Drift groaned, keeping the thrusts slow but strong.

It was a rhythm Prowl relaxed into, easily accepting the submissive position and lowered expectations that came with it. Jazz could overload him in kliks like this. With Drift, he accepted the pleasure he received and held no expectations for the end.

And kliks, it seemed, were all it was going to take Drift, who was panting heavily by the end of just a few, easy and simple to overload the way any spike-focused mecha who didn't care about the frame they buried into tended to be. His overload came with a roar and a full-frame shudder as heat flooded into Prowl's valve.

It felt good, but not enough for an overload. Not enough for Prowl to even try to claim one. So he relaxed, accepted the heat, the charge, the pleasure for what it was and let go of any need to continue.

Drift shivered through the shocks, gripping the frame beneath him tightly until they had faded away before he lifted up, slid his arms around under Prowl, and rolled onto his back, bringing Prowl over him. "Sorry," he grinned, and lifted his knees, bringing them up for Prowl to lean against. He patted his hip invitingly. "I'm told I have an enjoyable spike, why don't you relax and enjoy it? That could be hot to watch."

Prowl debated for a few nanokliks. "Is the questioning over with?"

"It's over with," Drift assured him. "You want some high grade or something first?"

"No need," Prowl settled himself into a processor set he had little use for but was still glad he'd learned. He'd been very young the last time he'd performed, but he remembered how to give a good show. It was easier to do that than anything else he could think of doing right now, and left him plenty of free processor space to think and analyze.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz noticed as soon as Prowl and the same larger mech from the night before came into the club. He watched for a moment before settling back into the rhythm of the music, trying to ignore the mental images of his lover in the other's berth. He paid little attention to them until Drift had bought high grade for Prowl, bid him farewell, and left. His shift was only a few kliks from officially ending, but...

::You're late. Want a better dance?:: he asked.

::If it's in private,:: Prowl purred in reply. ::I've had quite enough of general mecha for company for one orn.::

::That sounds so much better,:: Jazz said, more than happy to get off the stage and into his lover's arms. Joors of dancing with nothing to think about but what Prowl was doing had been an uncomfortable mix of distressing, frustrating, and arousing. ::End of this song and I'm done.::

::Good,:: Prowl's soft rumble spoke of intense eagerness to be with his mate in the relative privacy of their small apartment. ::Soon you'll be able to dance where there is less risk of being grabbed.::

::You'll still come watch me, though,:: Jazz said. ::Even if I don't need you to beat the hoards off.:: He grinned playfully as he bent backwards, putting his hands on the stage and looking right at Prowl.

::Of course,:: Prowl's engine revved. ::I never get enough of watching you enjoy yourself.::

Jazz smirked and sent his lover a series of images of them in a richly furnished room with himself on his back, one hand wrapped around his spike and the other pushing his fingers into his valve. ::Like that?:: he asked, straightening on the stage and taking his dance partner's leg in hand, bending the other mech over backwards, pressing down over him.

Prowl nearly choked on the energon he was drinking as his entire frame gave a shudder. ::You're trying to get me to make a scene again,:: he growled, though he didn't manage to sound as reprimanding as he wanted to. The image was simply too good.

::Oh, that was too much fun not to try again,:: Jazz said, completely unintimidated. ::And don't even try to tell me you didn't enjoy yourself.:: He helped his partner back up, spun him, and ran his leg up along the other mech's while he was pushed down in turn. ::Imagine what I could have done with an entire song,:: he said as they froze together in the seductive finish pose, Jazz bent over backwards, hips thrust up flush against the other's.

::I'm sure I won't have to for long,:: Prowl's optics were locked on his lover's form. ::You'll make sure of that.::

Jazz shivered, entirely aware that the entire room was watching him and his partner, but only concerned with keeping Prowl's gaze. ::You wanna find a dark corner?:: he asked as he straightened, carefully untangling from the other. ::Get me on my knees for you? Hold my head and use my mouth?:: He slipped off the stage and went straight to his mate, who was staring at him with huge optics, and climbed into his lap. "Pretend like we can't see everyone watching when we know they all are?"

Prowl's vents stuttered. Yes, he absolutely wanted to. He wanted the entire universe to know that this mech was _his_, but Drift's words came back to him. "Perhaps another orn," he murmured, claiming a heated kiss anyway before giving his barely-touched drink to his lover. "I'd rather enjoy you in private tonight."

"Even better," Jazz said, then tipped his head back to take a long swallow, exposing his neck while he drank. Then, cube empty, he set it on the table and nuzzled his helm to Prowl's. "Need a berth to spread my legs as wide as I want to, anyway," he said in a deep purr, well aware that he had the attention of everyone in audio range.

"Such a tease," Prowl rumbled, sliding his hands along his lover's back. "Up. The sooner we're home, the sooner I can indulge you."

Jazz grinned and leaned in to nip at Prowl's mouth. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to just spike me right here?" he murmured, twitching his hips forward just a touch, rubbing their plating together. "No one would be able to see anything..." And almost as if to prove that point, he slid his valve cover back.

Prowl shuddered, his ventilations picking up rapidly enough to draw even more attention to them. It was an effort to keep his panel closed and he knew his love could feel it. "Strata." Warning and plea all at once even as his hands closed around Jazz's hips and he pressed forward to claim a real kiss, demanding and full of the fire Jazz invoked in him.

Jazz hummed back against his mouth as he slid back off his lover's lap, far too turned on to care about the looks they were getting. He stood, drawing Prowl up with him without breaking the kiss. "You're right," he purred once they were both standing. "I'm being inappropriate, let's go home and have a quiet, polite evening."

"Home yes," Prowl rumbled, arm around Jazz's waist as he guided his lover out. "Quiet and polite, no."

"If you insist," Jazz said, grinning, and leaned against Prowl as the over-energized buzz from downing the cube of high grade sank in. He stayed quiet while they walked, and then drove, and managed to refrain from jumping his lover in the hallways, but once through the door, he had Prowl down on his back on the berth and was pressing a clashing kiss against his mouth. "So how was he?" he asked, grinding their hips together. "Drift, what did you do with him?"

"Spike-centric, self-centered," Prowl grumbled between kisses, his spike already pressurizing between them. "Not a berth I'm keen on returning to, though he wasn't mean."

"Aw," Jazz pouted. "That's no fun." He nipped his way down Prowl's jaw and neck, then snaked down his body, sliding backwards until he was crouched between his legs, taking his spike in hand and running his glossa up along the extended length and circling around the tip.

Prowl moaned, his time with Drift long gone from his cares now. He reached down to stroke Jazz's helm. "But you are. Always the one others have to strive to match."

Jazz pressed his lips against his lover and hummed, smiling. "No one's come close, have they," he said, x-venting hot air over the spike, caressing it with his mouth.

"No," Prowl shivered and moaned. One hand dropped to the berth to have something to grab while the other continued to stroke Jazz's helm. "No one turns me on like you do. No one's like my Strata."

Jazz gave a delighted purr. "You wouldn't believe how much it turns me on just thinking about this," he said, pulling another long lick up the underside. "Gets me so slick. Tell me you're going to spike until I can't see anymore, Sharp, please," he moaned.

"Oh much more than that," Prowl's growl was full of promise as he rocked his hips up. "You're going to need painkillers to dance tomorrow night. First you're going to swallow for me. Then I'll reward that tight valve of yours."

Jazz groaned with a full-framed shiver at the words and his fingers tightened. "Promise," he breathed, mouthing his way up to the tip. "Promise you'll use me like the slut I am," he said, before dipping his head down, filling his mouth completely with his lover's spike, pushing until it hit his intake.

"My slut, and only mine," Prowl growled into a deep moan of pleasure. "You do as I please, spread you legs only for me. Oh, yes. Love that mouth of yours. You learned so quickly to be so good."

Jazz whined softly in honest joy at the praise, swallowing down around the spike and rubbing his glossa against the underside, and reached between Prowl's legs to press a hand over the valve cover, palming at it. He raised his head slowly, and gasped as he lifted off the spike for a moment. "For you," he managed, shivering when the cover slid away and his fingers slipped over lubricated platelets. "To pleasure you," he said, before he dropped his head again.

Any response beyond a deep moan and wildly pleasured field was lost to the combined sensations. Prowl's hips rolled up, pressing deeper into the willing intake and trying to capture the fingers teasing his entrance. He'd cleaned up, there wasn't a trace of Drift in there, but despite the mild soreness the mech's girth had created any attention from Jazz left him wanting more.

Jazz redoubled his efforts, pressing his fingers in deeper in response to the encouraging sounds his lover was making, spreading them apart once they were inside and twisting his wrist while he hummed around the spike. Every movement, every hum, designed to drive his lover to ecstasy that Jazz took completely and utter joy in giving. True to Prowl's words, it didn't take long before they both felt him lose the fight with self-control and buck up sharply into Jazz's mouth with a moaning keen.

Hot, thick, charged fluid pumped into Jazz's intake, causing all the sensors there to tingle as he swallowed easily, holding around the spike until the hardest charges had faded before pulling up and off, glancing up at Prowl with a pleading whine.

Prowl gave him a lust-filled look and pulled him forward before rolling to his side and pressing Jazz's shoulders to the berth. One hand reached back to pull his aft up, hand dipping suggestively between his legs.

"Now that's a good look for you too," he kissed his lover's cheek and allowed his hands to roam while he worked his way to kneeling between Jazz's spread knees. "Aft up, ready to take every spike, just wanting to be filled up." His voice continued to roll over Jazz as he thrust forward, sinking into the valve he so enjoyed filling with a deep moan. "So tight despite all the use." He pulled out and drove forward again. "Frag you're good."

Jazz fisted at the berth, helm lowered against it, pushed forward with every hard drive from behind. "Anything for you," he moaned. "Anything, always, Sharp, you're so good to me."

"Because you earn it," Prowl growled, grinding against Jazz's aft as he leaned further forward, covering his lover. "You please me. You do well. You earn your rewards," he panted near Jazz's audial. "You feel so good."

Jazz arched up against him, moaning, closer to overload than he ever should have been by this point, but the entire evening spent imagining Prowl in another's berth had left him with a persistent, stubborn charge that was all too ready to explode with just the barest push.

"Sharp," he gasped, holding on as long as he could, "Ah-Sharp-so close, lover, _please_-" He broke off with a shuddering keen when Prowl grabbed him and slammed forward, striking the back of his valve with perfect precision, and with sensory stimulation like _that_, Jazz lasted less than a dozen more strokes before screaming into the berth as overload washed over him.

He was only dimly aware that his lover didn't even slow down through it, and was still driving into him when he recovered, the slide and pressure driving his charge up before the overload even fully faded, but this time, with the lingering arousal from earlier washed out, he was much more in control of what he was doing. He cycled his valve, shifting his focus back to pleasuring the spike filling him. "Sharp," he moaned. "Just like that, yes, _yes!_"

The rumble of approval from above rewarded his efforts as it was Prowl's turn to struggle not to overload as he continued the deep, pounding rhythm into his lover's tight, rippling, massaging valve.

Jazz moaned and gasped beneath him, his frame rolling with Prowl's, moving in a way that pushed his aft up into every thrust. His fingers dug into the thin padding of the berth for leverage and his pedes hooked around the backs of Prowl's legs, holding him tight. "Spike me so well," he moaned, almost incoherent again after just a matter of kliks. "Fill me so _hot_-_deep_-"

"Love how you react, such a wanton little whore for me," Prowl growled, barely audible over his fans vents. He groaned and shuddered, his rhythm breaking slightly. Denta bit into Jazz's back collar armor, sending the next growl vibrating through Jazz's entire frame.

Three more hard thrusts and Prowl roared against him, grinding their interface arrays together with each thick burst of transfluid he pumped into quivering, overloading valve that gripped around him. Jazz seized beneath him, jerking with each rush of fluid, his sobs muffled against the berth that he bit down on, tearing through the lining.

They slumped down within nanokliks of each other, panting heavily and armor loose to help expel the heat. Jazz gave a shuddering whine as Prowl pulled out, his valve still tight around his lover, protesting the absence but needing to disconnect in order for him to roll onto his back, where he all but collapsed.

"Love it so much when you use me," Jazz whispered, voice still fuzzy with static. "Like it should have always been."

"Yes," Prowl purred deeply, pressed as close as he could to his lover while they cooled down. "It's worth all the risk."

Jazz hummed contentedly, fingers up against Prowl's dataport. ~This job, this...whatever it is, is it safe?~ he asked as soon as he plugged in.

~As far as underworld jobs go, yes,~ Prowl sighed, relaxing as he cooled off. ~The risk relative to the reward is very low given our current options. Engineer is the local underworld boss. She has the rank to protect us quite well, and pay even better. She wants me for my processor, so the work I'm doing isn't going to risk me directly like working the streets. It will also make me valuable. It's easy to replace muscle. Replacing the mech who designed your credit cleaning system is much more difficult.~

~How do we know they don't work for him and are just going to trap us?~ Jazz asked. ~It seems too easy.~

~I have found no connection between him and Engineer,~ Prowl said with honest certainty. ~If they figure it out and turn on us, we'll have credits and can run again.~

Jazz nodded. It wasn't legal, and that was more of a risk than he wanted to take, but he also knew they needed credits, and badly. His income was just barely enough to cover rent and the supplements that the twins needed, which they couldn't even buy in bulk to help with the cost lest they risk attracting attention that way. Once he started actively building the protoforms, the cost would go up again.

~Prowl?~ he murmured, tracing his fingers up and down Prowl's chassis. He received a pulse of love and reassurance across the hardline, encouraging him to speak. ~I'd like to live in Praxus, after the twins separate,~ Jazz said. ~If it's possible. I want them to know you in Praxian form, _your_ form. I miss that form.~

~I can't take that look again,~ Prowl warned him. ~Praxian yes, but not my original design. We can work on that. Perhaps a transfer, perhaps a long vacation. Possibly by leaving her employ completely. I will keep that in mind.~

~I know,~ Jazz sighed, then smiled wistfully. ~Your original frame would have looked so beautiful sprawled out beneath mine.~

Prowl shivered. ~I would have enjoyed that. I _will_ enjoy that. After we rid the world of _him_, we can be ourselves again.~ He shifted to display himself, his legs spread and valve cover open. ~For now, would my Lord still enjoy my frame?~

Jazz groaned and gave a hard shudder as the heat and scent of a lubricated valve hit him, setting circuits and sensors deep in his frame alight with desire. ~More than anything,~ he whispered as he lifted himself up. ~My beautiful, blissful seneschal,~ he crooned, bringing their hips together, his spike extending out to nudge at the slick opening before he pressed in. ~So perfect for me, such a willing frame for me,~ Jazz purred over the hardline as their vocalizers moaned in unison, and as Jazz seated himself completely inside, they were lost to the world for the precious joors when everything could be perfect and right and complete.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz was a combination of anticipation and anxiety, half excited for this orn and half dreading it. Two decaorns into working for Engineer and Prowl had gotten Drift to spar with him a few times. Now he was flat-out paying the mech to train him. Those lessons were then passed on to Jazz, which made for some very interesting foreplay.

Today, however, Jazz was to watch a match between Drift and Prowl, so he could see some of the trickier moves performed by someone who really knew how to use them, and had. And as much as he knew Prowl did not enjoy Drift's berth, the few times he'd been in it, Jazz couldn't stop his engines from revving whenever he pictured the larger mech over his lover.

He felt bad, he really did, but every time he imagined it Prowl was enjoying himself immensely, and that... Jazz shivered from where he watched from the wall. It really was too bad the mech wasn't a good lover.

"Ready?" Drift rumbled at Prowl as he stalked to the center of the room.

"Yes," Prowl sank into a defensive crouch, his full attention on his opponent and on recording every possible detail of what was happening.

For once Jazz watched without trying to catch Prowl's attention at all as the match began and the two mecha moved and dodged around each other, Drift pressing a hard offensive that was just barely more than Prowl could handle without trouble. Prowl had spoken of Drift as not terribly bright in most things, simple and uneducated as well, but when it came to this, he was a master. Intuitive, with an understanding of frames and how they worked based entirely on hard-learned experience that had only been strengthened since coming to work for Engineer.

"Your best advantages are your frames, both of you," Drift said as Prowl lifted his hand to block a stroke towards his face but an instant later had to stumble away from the kick. "However you got them, they're top grade. Sturdy, strong, resilient, and most importantly, silent. Listen when I move, you can hear the hydraulics that indicate where I'm going next."

Jazz tried, but all he could hear was indiscriminate noise. Prowl, however, was nodding, optics focused sharply.

"With time you learn how to predict movement with sound as much as sight and teek," Drift said. He caught Prowl by surprise with an undercut that forced the smaller mech three steps back, and in the middle of one of them, Drift crouched and lashed out with his feet, swiping Prowl's legs out from under him.

As he picked himself up, Drift lifted his arm over his head, mimicking a forward thrown punch, then repeated the same undercut. "Hear the difference?"

Jazz couldn't from where he was, but Prowl was concentrating intensely as Drift repeated the movements.

"You will in time," Drift assured him.

Prowl nodded as he settled into a defensive stance once more. "I believe I heard it. It will be time. I will learn."

Drift grinned at him. "That I believe. You're no natural fighter, but you've got the spark and focus."

This time Prowl struck, aiming squarely for over Drift's spark. It was a blow that with Prowl's strength would likely crush, or at least crack the chamber of the average street mecha if it connected. It wasn't about technique, but a practical strike that would end most fights quickly.

Drift's hands shot up just in time, catching the fist before it could connect, microns away from his armor, grinning. "Good placement," he said, just before he twisted and pulled, aiming to drag Prowl to the floor and get the advantage.

Prowl went, but at the last moment, pulled up with the strength that his frame gave him and performed a twist of his own, hooking around Drift's leg and yanking, sending them both toppling down in a heap. Drift aimed with his elbow, connecting with Prowl's neck in a blow that made Jazz wince sympathetically. That had to _hurt_. Yet they knew what Drift didn't, and wouldn't, and that was just what _pain_ meant to the pair.

Prowl didn't so much as react, beyond the shift the kinetic force put on his frame. He cared about minimizing damage to himself. Pain was irrelevant.

So was anything remotely resembling honor or fair play.

With his position halfway on top of Drift and their limbs tangled up, Prowl used the opening to drive his full strength up into Drift's interface panels. The mech winced and let out a startled grunt while Jazz smirked at the way his frame curled ever so slightly.

"Frag," Drift half-laughed, half-groaned, then the noise shifted into a growl as the match became less of that and more of an all out brawl between the two as they struggled together, each trying to pin the other. It was never a question of who'd win, or even by now much, but about how long Drift would remember that he was teaching and not fighting. Prowl had once said that the less it took him to induce a brawl and be pinned, the better he was getting. It meant that he was reaching the point of threatening Drift that much faster.

Jazz wasn't sure if a breem and a half was good, but the genuinely triumphant look Drift had when he got Prowl pinned told Jazz that Prowl hadn't been kidding. That last half klik had been a real fight to Drift. He shifted his weight, waiting for Drift to release his lover from the pin, growing more concerned about the savage growl that was rising in the fighter's chassis and the increasingly predatory look he was giving his pin. Jazz frowned. He knew that look, intimately.

He took a step forward, his own engines beginning to growl. He knew he was no match for this one, but if he got too interested in Prowl, he was going to do what he could. He recognized the sudden shift in his mate from accepting the pin to tensing for a fight.

The sound and warning from under him put a grin on Drift's face and he lifted his head, then released the pin. "I've seen you dance, you move well," he said. "You'll both be excellent once you're trained."

"Thank you," Prowl said as they stood. "It's fine if he wants to frag me, Strata," his voice held an approving and pleased sub-harmonic but the tone of a command. "It will be neither first nor last time."

"An enjoyable form of payment," Drift rumbled. He eyed Jazz. "Wouldn't mind more of it if you'd like more direct lessons."

Jazz hummed thoughtfully. "I've been fragged for worse reasons," he said. "Training us together would be more efficient."

Prowl growled deeply, but he throttled his engine back and really _looked_ at Drift in a way that made the fighter uncomfortable. When Prowl moved to stalk around him in a full circle in silent judgment Drift had to work not to squirm.

"We could do worse, much worse, but not while he's building the protoform unless you're trying to court us for a triad. I can teach you how to be a lover, even if it takes a while," Prowl decided.

Drift scoffed. "Pit no," he said. "Like I'd want a slagging triad or a sparkling. Fine, only credits while he's building the protoform, and I'm not taking lessons on how to frag."

"You don't need any lessons on how to frag," Prowl's harmonics made a clear difference between that and lover clear. "I get to watch when you're with him."

Jazz had trouble keeping the rev of his engine down. Prowl finished his stalk around Drift and stepped back, and Jazz came up behind him, resting his chin on his mate's shoulder as they both looked at Drift, who looked skeptically back.

"Fine," the bigger mech finally said, waving a hand carelessly. "But no _lover_ lessons," he added, spitting the glyph out disdainfully.

"I'm agreeable," Jazz murmured against Prowl's audial.

"Then agreed," Prowl nodded, turning his helm to claim a strut-melting kiss from Jazz.

Jazz pushed back into it with a delighted shudder and heard Drift's engines start to rumble.

"First payment in advance?" Drift said, voice a deep growl.

Prowl gave Jazz a look and got a grin for it. "Agreed," he told Drift. "Do you want his mouth or valve? I get the other."

"Valve," Drift said immediately. "Been wondering about those other uses he has that you like so much." He frowned at Prowl. "Thought you were just going to watch."

"I can, but then you end up watching us and you don't get a second round," Prowl offered the choice.

Drift just shrugged, because didn't _that_ sound like an exercise in self-control that wasn't worth having. "Fine, you take his mouth," he said, walking around behind them, wasting no time in reaching between Jazz's legs to rub at his cover, which slid away at the first brush of contact. "Eager," he rumbled approvingly.

Jazz just hummed as he pressed his face against Prowl's neck and nuzzled. ::You are all right with this?:: he commed.

::For now, with Drift,:: Prowl responded as he stepped away, allowing Jazz to get on all fours. Prowl's spike cover snapped open as he knelt in front of his lover, his spike already half pressurized. ::I don't expect it will hold true with many. Not while our creations are potentially at stake. If they have a little of Drift in them, I can live with that. He's strong and attractive.::

::I am sure you will fill me so often while the protoforms are building that any influence he manages to pass on will not be noticeable,:: Jazz said as he pressed his lips to Prowl's spike, as eager as always to enjoy what was, for him, a truly euphoric act of worship. "He loves me on my knees," Jazz purred to Drift, happily keeping up their charade that Prowl was largely interested in him for his frame and abilities.

Drift's engines gave a hard rev and in the next moment, the new spike was nudging up against his valve, pressing eagerly forward without testing for lubrication, which there was thankfully plenty of.

"And he loves being filled, and to hear me talk to him," Prowl rumbled. ::Are you okay?:: he asked, internally wincing at the size of the spike going into his mate. It left Prowl sore, but he never lubricated quite like Jazz did.

::How much worse have I learned to enjoy?:: Jazz answered, squirming his hips down, pushing back against Drift with a low groan. This valve had been specifically designed and sized for Prowl, but that didn't mean it couldn't stretch, and there was something truly satisfying about feeling another violating a space that Vortex had been so absolutely possessive over.

"So I see," Drift said, now doing a hands-on workover of Jazz's frame the way he had with Prowl's, testing the give of the armor, and carefully, watching for the reactions of both parties, digging his claws into the hips to pull himself forward. Jazz shivered and frowned, but didn't so much as pause in his attention to Prowl's spike. He swallowed it easily, working his intake around the textured length he loved so much.

Prowl growled at Drift though, when the claws dug in. "No damage." He didn't stop thrusting into Jazz's mouth, his optics half-shuttered in pleasure.

"Fine," Drift rumbled, easing his hips slightly from side to side as he worked his way in, then stopped with a chassis-filling groan when his pelvis finally came flush to Jazz's aft. He held there to watch the carrier pleasing his mate, using a mix of his fingers, lips, glossa and intake in motions so fluid and easy they had to be well-practiced. And the look of open bliss on Jazz's face was telling enough. "Slagger loves it," he chuckled, starting in on shallow thrusts.

"Oh he does. He's my little slut. Utterly perfect for what he is," Prowl said, his voice deepening from his pleasure and because he knew the exact pitch that made Jazz shiver. "He gets off on pleasing me, pleasuring me, anywhere, any way."

Drift grinned. "Knew about the anywhere part," he said, as Jazz moaned around his mate's spike while pushing his aft back against the larger one. "Frag, must be nice, knows what he's doing, too."

Privately, Jazz smirked and rippled his valve with half the attention he would normally pay to Prowl, far more focused on the mental arousal of swallowing his lover and feeling the pleasure in that field caressing his own. ::I'm going to take you good and hard later,:: he purred, confident that Drift had no idea how to hack a comm frequency. ::Show you who the real slut is.::

"Oh yes," Prowl moaned, responding to them both. ::I'm going to worship your spike, your frame. Kneel and swallow and spread my legs and plead for more.::

::Shameless for me,:: Jazz crooned, barely noticing Drift anymore beyond the enjoyable stretch that stopped just short of being painful. He dipped his head, swallowing and humming with perfectly-pitched vibrations designed to both heighten the pleasure and hold Prowl where he was, using the pitch to prevent him from overloading too quickly.

Prowl moaned, his hands on Jazz's helm as he allowed his mate to do all the work. It was blissful, knowing this wasn't because Prowl was powerful, but because Jazz loved him enough that pleasuring him was a pleasure itself. Prowl only trusted that truth because it was true for him. He knew, and he did not question.

"So good, Strata," Prowl gasped. "Such a good pet. You exist to please me and you do it well."

Jazz pulled off the spike with a gasp and a full-framed shudder as the friction and pull in his valve started to work into the rest of his systems. He dragged his lips along the length in his hand, nuzzling his face against it, worshiping and loving in every touch. "Anything for you," he murmured before swallowing again.

"Frag," Drift gasped, watching the display, completely turned on by the dominance Prowl had over his mate, remembering all the times he had pushed that dominant mech down and fragged him into the ground. "Nn, yes," he moaned, his head falling back as the speed of his thrusts picked up, still worked up from the fight and eager for release.

"You want this on your face, don't you?" Prowl growled, shaking from the charge in him. "You want the whole city to see me on you. It turns you on, doesn't it, to show off that you're owned."

Jazz whined and dragged his glossa up the spike, pressing his mouth to the tip and massaging it. "Please yes," he gasped. "Overload on me, cover me, show everyone what a slut I am for you, master, _yes_."

Behind him, Drift pounded in as he watched, shaking as he tried to hold on long enough to watch, engines revving.

It was all Prowl could take and he roared as the overload crashed through him, rushing up from his spike, into his spark and then outward against to focus on the thin line of liquid heat that pumped through his spike to spray onto Jazz's lips.

Jazz tipped his face up, optics half shuttered but meeting Prowl's gaze. "Thank you," he moaned, and when Drift roared and slammed into his valve, shooting deep, shook in his own overload, optics flickering from the charge.

Jazz stayed as still as he could, trembling until the shocks faded, leaving him content but nowhere near as satisfied as Prowl could make him. When the movement behind him stopped, he licked his lips slowly, drawing the transfluid on them into his mouth.

"Slagging hot," Drift groaned as he slumped while the pair continued to look at each other with darkened optics.

"He is," Prowl continued to stroke the sides of Jazz's helm. He took a step back and guided Jazz forward, off Drift's spike and to his pedes in a single motion, only barely touching the mech. To Drift it was a show of power and dominance. For Jazz and Prowl, it was a mark of their love and understanding.

The kiss Prowl claimed was the same, absolutely domineering to Drift's optic, but a sign of his absolute devotion to Jazz.

"You do look good covered in my release," Prowl purred deeply. ::I look forward to being covered in yours, and licking mine off you.:: He looked up at Drift. "I think sparing is done for the orn."

Drift waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal as he stood up and retracted his spike, sated by the intense release and pleased with himself for all the times he'd taken the obvious top in this pair. "I think you'll be able to save your credits for a while," he chuckled. "His frag can count as your payment for this round, we'll start his training next time." He stalked off with a pleased rumbling in his engines, knowing Prowl knew the way out, and didn't need escorting from this part of the city.

::Covered, filled, and still begging me for more,:: Jazz said, looking lovingly up at his mate. ::Begging for me to use you.:: He slid his leg up along Prowl's. "Home, please?"

"If you think you can keep your cover closed that long," Prowl teased him and guided his mate out. ::Do you want to clean up first? A cloth and my office are on the way.::

::That sounds marvelous,:: Jazz said, nuzzling Prowl as they walked. ::Slagging uncreative brute, I see why you don't enjoy him. I'd like to be clean for you. And bonus,:: he added brightly, ::Your office has a locking door.::

Prowl laughed across the comm but kept his frame free of it. ::Yes. A big spike but very little else. I can suggest he'd enjoy you sucking him off, if you'd prefer that. Otherwise he'll be quite content with a basic repeat of today.::

There was a brief pause, long enough for Prowl to notice before Jazz answered. ::No, don't suggest that,:: he said, tone darker. ::I like to imagine the look on _his_ face if he could see.::

::It feels good, to have what he valued so much used by another,:: Prowl said, sure of his assessment. The door to his office slid open, though it was no less private a place to talk than the hall.

::Yes,:: Jazz agreed, going for the cleaning supplies right away. ::One orn we'll have him and I'll show him, every single spike that wasn't his and how much better they all were. Even that gang of thugs was more welcome.::

::We will show him that, and how strong we've become, and what a couple _should_ be,:: Prowl tried not to growl as he watched Jazz clean up. ::Then we'll remove his spark from the world and bond before his gray frame.::

Jazz shivered. ::Force him to watch our ecstasy while he suffers and gutters,:: he breathed, more turned on by the idea of Vortex in pain than he ever would have thought possible. He tossed the soiled rag away to be incinerated and moved gracefully over to his lover, his mate, his future bonded. ::_Show_ him what we are,:: he said, pulling Prowl into a heated, claiming kiss.

::Again and again, until we've _broken_ him, utterly and completely.:: Prowl's growl did surface this time as he kissed back just as fiercely. "Mine. You will always be mine."

"Always, even when we have returned to the Well, when our frames are no longer, I will find you," Jazz swore, pulling Prowl down on top of him. "Forever."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Prowl took a moment to skim the incoming credit reports that Engineer's street dealers uploaded at the end of the orn, detailing credits in and out, total inventory moved, and which cover business they would be "spending" the intake in before he went back to his ornly check of his cleaning system.

It was a complex network that had been mostly set up before he'd even arrived, but problems with the last mech to hold this position was still giving him a processor ache to untangle. The glitch thought he could skim off the top without Engineer noticing. It had created some awkward loopholes and snares to smooth out that he was still keeping an optic on, mostly to make sure the street dealers were depositing everything properly. Prowl had also made some system-wide adjustments that helped everything run smoother and with a much lower risk assessment. He could have stolen a good deal and disappeared without getting caught, but it wasn't worth it to upset the stability they were settling into.

Speaking of...

He'd noticed the pedefalls coming up the hallway but dismissed them a moment too soon, and a moment after they stopped there was a very excited mech jumping up onto his back, wrapping legs around his waist and purring into his neck. Prowl caught Jazz's legs reflexively-the physical training he'd started with Drift was already paying off-and revved his engine in greeting.

"All moved in, please tell me you can leave and come see," came Jazz's voice, laced with anticipation.

Prowl chuckled softly and turned his helm for a kiss even as he pulled his chair back enough for Jazz to fit on his lap. "Be non-distracting for two breems and yes."

"Two breems!" Jazz protested dramatically, but huffed in agreement. And made no move to move out of Prowl's lap. "Can I be non-distracting from here?"

"I invited you to sit, didn't I?" Prowl purred, his field reaching out to wrap his lover in a warm embrace as he moved the chair forward again and focused on his work for the few kliks it would take him. It didn't stop his arm from wrapping around his mate, who was only a metacycle away from being visibly marked as a carrier.

Jazz sat relatively still, nuzzling against Prowl's neck and enjoying his lover's field, but impatient with even a two breem wait, short as it was. He watched the nanokliks ticking down, and the moment the requested time had passed, he bit Prowl's neck, just hard enough to get himself noticed.

"Impatient little creature," Prowl chastised him with a chuckle and kiss. His fingers moved without needing to look at the screen as he closed thing down for the night. "All right, you can show me our new residence."

His lapful of purring carrier had bounded to its pedes before he even finished speaking, grabbing his hands and pulling. "I hope you like the one I picked," Jazz said, grinning at him. Prowl had worked with Engineer to find rooms for lease in a district in her control, and then given Jazz the final choice out of his preferred buildings. They had all been modest, but compared to how they'd been living since they'd started running, any one of them was a palace. Nothing like the estates Jazz had spent most of his life in, but his lover was insistent that all he cared about was a berth and a locking door that they had control over.

Prowl privately suspected that Jazz wasn't going to complain when he eventually got them well off enough to have a private residence with a hot oil pool on a balcony that overlooked a beautiful view, but that was going to take time. It was entirely probable that the twins would be in their final frames long before it happened.

Still, Prowl wasn't going to complain as Jazz lead them through the streets. It was safe here, the route between any of the choices and where Prowl worked all through areas where gang violence was largely absent. Jazz had argued to finish the pre-protoform construction time where he'd began dancing. They knew him there, they knew Prowl there, and they knew that Jazz was not available. He'd dance somewhere nicer after they separated and he had his dancing shape back. Reluctantly Prowl had agreed, so long as Jazz promised not to walk outside without either Prowl or one of Engineer's guards that they knew to escort him.

He idly crossed off choices as the turns Jazz made narrowed the options for where they could be heading until they final turn made Prowl's engines give a pleased purr when he realized that Jazz had chosen the building with a room that could be converted into a washrack, of sorts, if the tenants so chose. They would have to supply the equipment, but that wouldn't be a problem. Planet-wide investments were starting to pay off-not as quickly as he'd hoped, Cybertron's economy seemed to be in a slump everywhere-and while most of the returns were going straight to Mucit, Prowl kept enough for them to be comfortable and to have funds for small emergencies.

Jazz transformed once they were outside the building and held his arm out, gesturing up at it, giving his love a huge grin as he sent a databurst with the apartment number and lock encryptions for both the outer door and their own.

Prowl purred as he took his lover's hand and pulled him close. He knew many of the mecha who lived here, either in passing or from their files. It was a safe place. Engineer valued him. Engineer understood than Prowl valued Jazz. Which meant Engineer protected Jazz as one of her own. It wasn't perfect, but they were safer than the average middle-income mecha in the city and that was good enough. Prowl wanted perfect, but he understood the give and take that reality required, and he was lucky to have a mate who in the meantime was blissfully content with just recharging next to him every night.

Prowl's lips turned up in a small, private smile as he followed Jazz through the halls to their apartment. More like he had a mate who was blissfully content with everything that happened in their berth and was usually knocked into recharge by the end of it.

Jazz palmed open the door and led Prowl into the apartment, which opened up into a small room with a window on the far wall that was currently set to its most opaque setting. Jazz went straight to the center, where he'd adding a dancing pole, and grabbed it, spinning around once. "Ours," he said, as he stood back up, gesturing around.

Prowl, on pure instinct, took in everything, judging layout, quality, safety and needs, even though he was well aware of it all. He couldn't help his seneschal core coding. It was only a matter of nanokliks before he smiled and crossed the small distance to his love to embrace him. "I very much like this one," he purred, knowing Jazz wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it most likely. What little remained of Jazz's conformation coding still craved approval from the mech he had chosen as mate.

Jazz's engines gave a pleased hum as he pressed flush to Prowl. "I know it doesn't look like much right now," he murmured, "But we can add to it. Besides," he leaned back enough to flash Prowl a mischievous grin, "I fully expect to spend quite a lot of time looking at the ceiling."

"The ceiling, floor or wall," Prowl grinned and claimed a heated kiss, his fingers trailing down Jazz's side. He dropped his voice a full octave. "Why don't you give me a private preview of your next routine, if you've gotten everything set up."

"Someone's feeling patient," Jazz purred. "All right, but I'm going to do my best to make sure you regret asking, you tease," he said, stepping back, pushing off from Prowl with his fingertips and sauntering over to the sliding barrier that closed off the room they were standing in from the large berthroom. "Sit," Jazz commanded, pointing at the berth, which was covered with thick padding that had been an entire decaorn's salary.

That first touch of the padding and Prowl knew it was well worth it. Especially for how much they used their berth, and how roughly. "I'll never regret a reason to watch you move because you're enjoying it."

Jazz hummed and stretched, showing off his frame from the best angle he could. "Kind of like how you didn't regret taking me into a public no-'facing washracks that one time?" he asked, bending over backwards, grinning at his lover from the pose. "I certainly enjoyed that."

"It was very arousing," Prowl admitted with a rumble. "Even if I was hoping to enjoy the pool. You were far too hot. Especially your ultimatum."

"I do feel somewhat bad about that," Jazz admitted as he lowered his shoulders down to the ground and kept his hips pushed high, his spine perfectly straight. He wrapped his hands around one of his legs and pulled, lifting it up and pointing his pede towards the ceiling, carefully working the hip and ankle hydraulics for a moment before doing the same with the other leg. "The pool looked very nice." He lowered his leg, braced himself, and then leapt upright in a single, fluid motion, spinning on his heel and grabbing the pole, swinging around it again before hooking it with his knee and leaning back, optics fixed on his lover.

Those ice blue optics were fixed right back on him, hungry and admiring. "We'll have other opportunities now. She pays well. We'll be able to visit a nice washrack once a decaorn or so, though I'd like to time it to when you want to enjoy it rather than me."

"Blasphemy," Jazz declared, rocking his hips up against the pole, moving to a silent beat in his processor. "I'll just have to hardline you in the washracks. I bet we could get away with that. Or in the hot oil pool," he added, dipping his voice into a sultry purr. He finished a series of quick twirls that ended with his back pressed to the poll and one arm stretched up over his head, gripping tightly. He raised his knee up, then slid his free hand around under his leg, slowly pulling up until his ankle was nearly as high as his helm. "Imagine all that oil caressing your plating while I overload you in view of everyone as you try so hard to stay quiet and not give it all away."

Prowl shuddered, holding back a moan. "Or maybe I'll hunt down a nice one that doesn't have rules against interfacing," he suggested, his optics never leaving the lovely grace of his mate. It didn't matter what form Jazz wore, he would always be graceful. "Or you can. Tell me where you want me to take you, show off to everyone just how much you own me and I own you. I know you get off on being watched, on how jealous they all are that you're taken and how good you are. Find a place that's okay, and we'll do anything you want."

"You should know better than to make open-ended promises like that," Jazz said in a seductive trill. "But I'll see what I can find," he added, more seriously, as he lowered his leg and dipped into a crouch, knees spread wide, hands running up the insides of his thighs and tracing his fingers around first his valve and then his spike cover before sliding back up to his feet and spinning again, settling into a slow, careful dance.

With no doubt that he had his lover's optics fixed firmly on every move he was making, Jazz shifted through the graceful positions and moves of the dance, designed in every way to be a careful seduction to the viewer, no matter who that viewer was. But if that viewer happened to be the dancer's mate...well. Jazz smirked to himself halfway through a turn and abruptly changed the routine to bring him facing the pole while he knelt, then ran a long, slow lick up the side as he reached down to his pelvis to grip his spike as it extended into his hand.

Prowl's vents caught audibly as a small sound escaped his vocalizer.

"You know I'll do anything for you," Prowl panted, his own equipment burning hot enough that the panels automatically slid open. He leaned back on his hands and spread his knees, knowing full well the visual he was offering in return. "How much I get off on watching you ride my spike. Just as good as pinning and pounding into you so hard you walk funny the next orn. Just as good as feeling that amazing spike deep inside me as I work each and every micron until you scream."

"Gonna pound you so hard," Jazz moaned in reply, stroking himself in time with his dip down along the pole, finding it incredibly difficult to stay where he was and finish the routine. "Frag, how do I get myself into these situations?" he asked with a strained laugh, entirely aware that his plan was backfiring just as much as it was working.

"Because you're a very desirable mech with a high interface drive," Prowl moaned, his fingers playing along the rim of his valve, ignoring his hard spike for the time being. "You forget that you want me just as much as I want you."

Jazz chuckled. "So very true," he said, tossing Prowl an openly desiring look that shifted down to his valve. "Primus that looks delicious," he said, slowly licking his lips, and lifted his hand off his spike and wrapped his fingers around the pole. He pushed his aft up and back, sliding his valve cover away. "It is not fair that I can only do one thing with you at a time," he said. "Far too many choices."

"That is what energon and multiple rounds are for," Prowl chuckled, his tone deep with desire as his gaze moved from spike to valve. His fingers moved from his glistening valve to stroke his curvaceous and textured spike. "I can never decide which way I like you best. So glad you like using both."

"Both, slag," Jazz said, grinning. "I can think of more than a dozen ways to have you. How many surfaces do you think we can break in in an orn?"

Prowl laughed brightly. "All of them, if our energon supply is what I think it is."

"Excellent," Jazz said, and finished the dance with a final series of spins and dips, then froze in place, back against the pole, and lifted his hand, crooking a single finger. "Come here," he purred, and rested his other hand invitingly on the juncture between his hip and thigh, gesturing in. "I know where I want you to start."

"I like the idea," Prowl rumbled and stood, striding forward to kneel before his lover. He caught Jazz's right knee to nuzzle, kiss and lick his way up, taking his time and enjoying the heat and charge in his lover's field.

Jazz slid his fingers around Prowl's helm, smiling softly. "You are so lovely," he murmured, armor loosening just from the sight. "Primus blessed me when he made you mine."

"Just as he blessed me when he made you for me, no matter what it took to make that happen," Prowl purred deeply as he nuzzled and licked his way to Jazz's valve. His glossa teased the slick platelets there, swirling around the edge of the valve rim. "You're too perfect."

Jazz pulled his leg up, panting heavily as he offered his lover more room. "Oh right there," he moaned, pushing his hips out into the warm touch. "Nn... would do it all again just to have you," he said, and meant every word.

Prowl's glossa slid around the inside of his valve rim and he hummed, sending perfectly pitched vibrations into Jazz's valve, making the calipers cycle closed on empty air while his fingers worked Jazz's thighs. "Do you want to face the mirror?"

Jazz managed a grin through his shivers. "Sharp you licentious mech," he said, even as he lowered his leg and shifted, Prowl moving with him, so he was facing the mirror with a perfect view of his lover's kneeling form in front of him. "Leave it to you to suggest something like that, you know perfectly well that mirror is for practicing."

"Of course it is," Prowl chuckled a rumble against Jazz's valve and circled his glossa around the inner rim again before pressing inward. "But it's got better uses and you know it."

"I may have-_ah_-considered that when I bought it," Jazz said, torn between the view when he looked down and the one when he looked into the mirror, and settled on shifting between the two. His fingers curled around Prowl's helm as he relaxed into his lover's touches, caressing and stroking. "So, so lovely," he breathed, enraptured by the sight.

"You taste so good," Prowl purred, his glossa delving deeper, seeking out the nodes to lap against and rub. "Pure pleasure. That's what you are. Pure pleasure."

Jazz shivered and moaned softly. "I can't help it, never been able to help it around you, not since I was a mechling." His leg came up to rest against Prowl's shoulder and his other hand joined the first on Prowl's helm, gripping, trying not to pull him in too hard. "Pleasure from you is so sweet, so good, my perfect, beautiful, only..." He trailed off into another moan as he watched Prowl's hands stroking over his legs, the way his head was tilted up and back, the sight of his face between his thighs all serving to push his charge up faster than any other could have done with the same touches.

"Good, because you're mine," Prowl rumbled deeply, his glossa stroking and rubbing the nodes he could reach with relentless precision. "Never giving you up, my perfect whore. You're addictive in how much you want me."

Jazz whined as the words and the voice that spoke them went straight through him like pure, molten gold and he shook, unable to stop his fingers from tightening around his lover's helm and thrust his hips out, keeping Prowl pulled in. "Say it again," he gasped, _pleaded_. "Call me your whore, call me what I am."

"You are _mine_," Prowl snarled against his valve, lapping and rubbing without pause. "You are exactly what I want you to be. My whore. My slut. The carrier of _my_ creations. You are _mine_."

Jazz shook and shouted, overload rushing through him before Prowl had even finished speaking the final glyph, centering in around his valve, which rippled and gripped at the slick intruder that was creating such perfect pleasure even as shallow as the reach was. The reach hardly mattered, it was _Prowl_ touching him, worshiping his frame, and that would always be more than enough.

"Love you!" Jazz sobbed as the second surge of charge cycled through him, needing that much to clear his systems out, frame shuddering from the static shocks that danced over and under his armor. He slumped when they dissipated, still keeping Prowl's helm held tightly between his legs, quivering. That and Prowl's strong, supportive grip on his legs were the only reason he was still upright.

"You are delightful, my lovely Strata," Prowl purred from where he was kneeling, relaxed but very aroused. "And this is only round one."

Jazz hummed in blissful satisfaction as he very carefully lowered his leg down and loosened his grip from Prowl's helm, carefully putting his weight fully back onto his pedes. He stroked his fingers down the side of Prowl's face and under his chin, tilting his head up, optics flickering with pleasure at the sight of his lubricant all over his lover's mouth. "Come here," he purred, lifting his hand, bringing Prowl upright with just the gentle brush of his fingers. As soon as he was standing, Jazz pulled him into a deep, heated kiss, eagerly tasting himself in Prowl's mouth while he pressed his hips forward, rubbing their spikes together. "So how thorough should we be about this breaking in business?" he asked, optics darkening in renewed arousal.

"Very," Prowl panted when the kiss finally ended, his hips rocking back into the delightful contact. "I want to use and taste every part of you tonight."

"You will," Jazz promised, reaching down between them to wrap his fingers around their spikes, twisting his wrist in a smooth stroke that made both of them groan. "Just as I will use you," he gasped, "Over and over and...mmm...over."

"Yesss," Prowl shivered and pressed into the touch and another kiss, impatient as his lover was to fully break in their new home.


	17. Territorial Rights

Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.  
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .  
Archiveofourown-org/works/637909/chapters/1155977

Starcrossed 17: Territorial Rights  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz finished his shift, waved farewell to the night manager and security mecha, and headed outside to wait for Prowl after snagging a cube of high grade from the bar. His mate was running a little late to walk him home-something he would not allow Jazz to do on his own under any circumstance-and he was running hotter than usual from the dancing, and not at all from arousal. His frame was preparing to start the protoform construction, and he wanted to be outside in the cool air, away from the enclosed space filled with so many dozens of revving engines.

He went around to the privacy of the side of the building to wait and leaned against the wall, looking up at the moons and holding his hand over his spark for a moment before sipping at the high grade. It wasn't enough to get him overcharged, but it helped to cover for the fact that he consumed more energon than a mech his size normally would at this stage in an average carry. It was unlikely that anyone would notice, but they weren't taking chances with bounty hunters crawling the planet looking for any sign of a twin carrier.

He ignored the sounds coming from around the corner where the buymecha waited for customers. The owners of the club pretended they weren't there, and the buymecha kept the customers who couldn't afford the pleasurebot dancers sated and calm. It was a beneficial, unspoken arrangement between all parties involved.

He _did_ pay attention when the noise turned into an unmistakably angry engine rev, a clatter, and a shout before a misshapen frame stumbled around the corner. The mech was growling and as he stepped forward into better light, Jazz thought he could see why. His frame was disgustingly dirty and his spike was still extended, credits in hand. Apparently no one had been willing to take this one, even for pay.

The mech's optics found Jazz and brightened, walking forward much faster, obviously thinking this was another chance. Jazz eyed him. He was strong enough to tear the mech apart if he needed to. He got close enough to teek, and the rank, unrestrained lust hit him strong and Jazz shifted uncomfortably, just watching, high grade forgotten as he came close enough to touch.

"Credits for a spike," the mech rattled.

Jazz frowned, revolted by the state of the frame, but found it hard to even shake his head, and when the mech stepped closer and he could feel the heat of the spike-

His valve cover opened immediately.

Jazz's optics spiraled wide. "I'm carrying," he managed to say, and _Primus_, why was even that so difficult? "Please-maybe later-"

"Then suck," the mech rumbled, shoving the credits in his hand forward. "Ah don' care."

"No," Prowl's distinctive voice carried the authority he had not used in a long time. "No one touches him but me."

Prowl's voice cut through the intense focus Jazz had on the mech's spike and he forced a step towards his mate, slower than he would have really liked but at least he was further away.

"He wan's it," the mech whined, gesturing at the open valve, having clearly heard it opening. "C'mon."

"I do not care," Prowl growled as he stepped forward, his armor flaring in warning and his field a riot of aggression and possessiveness that could have rivaled Drift. "He is mine. Do you understand?"

The mech hissed, but wasn't stupid enough to challenge that kind of display. "Fine, Ah got't," he muttered, and pushed past the pair to stalk away.

Jazz shuddered, watching until he was gone from sight, then cringed when he felt the lingering aggression in his mate's field. "Didn't want him influencing the protoform," he said, and even _that_ sounded flimsy to his own audials.

With an effort Prowl dissipated his anger and put a gentle finger under Jazz's chin so their optics met. "I know. I know what you felt. Let's go home. I'm not angry with you."

_Relief_ flooded through Jazz and he nodded, just wanting to be behind a locked door and in his mate's berth, frustrated and confused that what had kliks ago been a perfect, normal evening had turned so disquieting. "I wanted-" he started, then broke off and shook his head, because he wasn't sure he knew the rest of that sentence. Belatedly and as they took the first steps, he realized his valve cover was still open and closed it immediately.

The drive home was quiet and painfully introspective for Jazz as he tried to figure out why his reaction hadn't been to push the mech over and walk away, and why by _Primus_ his valve cover had opened. It wasn't a reflex _he_ had ingrained in him, had it?

It certainly wasn't any kind of installed program or some kind of dysfunctional glitch, because Prowl had been through his processors line by line, purging anything of the like when he'd removed every trace of the construct.

But it _had_ to be a glitch, or a virus, or _something_, Jazz thought, frustrated. He'd seen a mech he didn't want, not under any circumstances, not even to take the symbolic revenge he'd grown to crave. But his frame, and even, if he was willing to admit it, his processor had wanted to please that spike.

That couldn't be reflex, it had to be a virus... didn't it?

By the time they were home, Jazz had run a routine anti-virus sweep, found nothing, and was by then more than happy to just forget the incident as soon as they were behind their locked door.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

The next time Prowl was going to be late, Drift was waiting by the door, looking bored with his high grade until Jazz's shift was over.

"He'll be later than he thought," Drift said, greeting Jazz with a familiar engine rumble. "Wanna go home or wait for him there?"

"I'll wait for him there," Jazz said, which was what he usually did on evenings like this. He enjoyed the drive home with his mate.

Drift nodded and jerked his head towards the door, leading him out.

When they arrived at the main intel hub where Prowl worked, there was a femme waiting in the sitting room that Jazz spent his time in, holding a flute of light, bubbling high grade that Jazz had only ever seen his creators and other nobles indulge in, but had never tried himself.

"Drift, would you please ask for another sent down?" she asked, then turned her smile on Jazz. "Hello Strata, I'm Engineer."

Jazz nodded once in greeting, smiling back easily as he chose a seat on the long, cushioned lounge next to her, reclining out. "It is nice to finally meet you," he said.

"I would have liked to sooner, but business comes first," she smiled warmly. "Your mate is quite valuable to me. I like to get to know those who are important to those I value."

The door opened and a black, glossy minibot stepped in carrying a flute identical to the one Engineer was holding. Jazz accepted it with a smile, waiting until the mech had left again before turning back to Engineer. "I'm just a dancer," he said, with a small shrug before taking a sip, and immediately gave a hum of delight at the bright, clear taste. .

"Oh, you undervalue yourself," she smiled warmly. "You have captured Sharp's spark, you carry his creation. A creation that I hope is as smart as he is. And from Drift's accounts, you are a fine dancer and good student of violence. I am sure you could be far more than a dancer if you wished to be."

"Perhaps," Jazz said, then laughed softly. "Though I really can't imagine what, I don't have a processor like Sharp's." He gave a small, thoughtful hum. "And he likes watching me, I would never deprive him of that."

"Very few have a processor like Sharp," Engineer agreed easily. "How long have you known him?"

Jazz smiled and closed his eyes, resting his head back. "Feels like my whole life," he said. "Like I wasn't even living until he was there."

She smiled softly at the love-struck answer. "You are very sweet together," she sipped her energon. "Are you enjoying being a carrier?"

"Mm, yes," Jazz said, his free hand coming up absentmindedly to linger over his spark and where he could feel the bright warmth of the twin sparks. They had felt so much healthier and vibrant since he and Prowl had found stability in Simfur. "Not excited to lose my frame, though. Have you ever carried?"

"No, I've never liked anyone enough to bond," she shook her helm. "It's such a large step, and you seem so young."

"I got lucky," Jazz said, perfectly honest in that. "And truthfully, the newspark might not have been entirely planned," he chuckled. "But I couldn't stop myself from wanting his creation."

"Do your creators approve of him?" she asked, a probing question, but still a normal one. "I would think he was quite the catch."

"They would if we were still on speaking terms," Jazz shrugged. "Business mecha, they never approved of my desire to be a performer. Actually," he said, "I'm sure they would rather have Sharp as a creation than me."

A frown crossed Engineer's features. "That attitude causes so much harm in this world. What are your hopes for your creation? Beyond being healthy and strong."

Jazz paused to think about that for a moment, something he actually hadn't ever really considered before. So much of their focus had been on surviving and creating a safe, stable life for their sparklings, what came _after_ hadn't even occurred to him. "I suppose..." he said, trying to imagine what life was like for commoner sparklings, and having a bit of a hard time of it. "To be safe, and find love... and have a processor like Sharp's," he added with a laugh. "And maybe even enjoy dancing, though if not, I won't act like my creators did."

Engineer smiled again, a mixture of understanding and sadness. "It wasn't easy for you, the metacycles before I hired Sharp. Are you going to dance again, when you get your frame back in shape?"

"Maybe," Jazz hummed, slowly sipping his high grade. "Not at the same place, if I do. Sharp doesn't like that one."

"Yet he allows you to dance there," she cocked her helm. "Why?"

"I like it there," Jazz said simply. "We agreed until I start building the protoform, but now that it isn't necessary..." He shrugged.

"It _is_ because you like it there," she summarized with a gentle hum. "When you came to Simfur you were running from something. What?"

Jazz lifted his head to look at her, frowning, unprepared for the shift in topic. There was no point in denying they had been running, any glitch with a set of simple circuits could figure that out. "I was in trouble," he finally said, very slowly. "I stole something. Sharp got me out."

That raised an optic ridge. "That must have been an impressive theft. Leaving a city for almost getting caught. Who am I protecting you from?"

"You aren't," Jazz said coldly. "You are employing my mate and giving him the means to protect me, and your protection from the dangers in _this_ city is appreciated, but unrelated."

"Then if anyone comes looking for you, you are on your own," she told him as a caution. "I am not keen on loosing Sharp's skills."

"If anyone comes looking for me, you _will_ lose his skills," Jazz said, and shrugged, relaxing back down, looking completely casual again. "His ultimate loyalty is to me. But I think you know that."

"Yes, I worked that out," she nodded and sipped her energon. "Do you like it here, now that you have enough credits to live?"

"It is likable as anywhere I have ever lived," Jazz said, swirling his flute and looking into it, then shot her a smirk. "Anywhere with a door and a berth meets my standards."

Engineer laughed lightly. "Though I'm sure the nicer the berth the better it is," she winked. "Credits can buy wonderful things that make existence better. Your mate is well on his way to a promotion. I'm sure you'll enjoy the results. Perhaps an addition to your private washroom."

"Perhaps," Jazz agreed. "He enjoys spoiling me. I enjoy thanking him."

"What other ways do you enjoy being spoiled?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"Nice washracks, comfortable berth..." Jazz trailed off for a moment. "Anything he gives me, it doesn't matter what it is."

"Better energon?" she suggested. "Have you tried flavored drinks?"

Jazz had, frequently, his entire life before running with Prowl, but Engineer didn't need to know that. "Just high grade at clubs, if that even counts," he said, and held up the flute. "This is delicious, whatever it is."

"It doesn't," she chuckled. "And that is hydro-fission energon. It's low energy but very high in hydrogen and oxygen molecules. A mech by the designation Mucit developed it. It still has only one supplier. The next time you come by, try out some of the additives with your energon," she motioned to the small table that always contained a few things to snack on and a small energon dispenser that only offered low-grade. Good quality, but low in energy. Perfect as a snack and to entertain.

"I will," Jazz said, pretending to be interested as he looked at the dispenser. He took another sip, tasting the mix more carefully, and smiling as he imagined Mucit and Wheeljack enjoying the same concoction.

"Do you have a medic?" Engineer's tone shifted to a slightly more serious tone. "Most carries and separations go smoothly and don't really need one, but if something goes wrong, it can often kill both quickly."

"Not right now." And oh, did Jazz know about everything that could go wrong and how much higher the odds were with twins. "We'll find one if we need one."

She gave a hum of acceptance, but also hinted that she intended to speak to Prowl about it. "Are you going to have the separation in your own berth, or go to a hospital?"

"We decided we want to be alone," Jazz said, and gave a rueful smile. "We've been the only ones there for each other for a long time, we want this to be just us."

"Soon to be just the three of you," she chuckled, the tone a mixture of understanding and softness at the romance of it. "Do you know his designation yet?"

"Mm, no. He hasn't started speaking to me yet," Jazz explained. He finished his energon and looked at the empty flute for a moment, tilting it in the light, then back up at Engineer. "Sharp had a lot to do this orn?"

"There was an attempt to hack in. It caused extra work for him," she shrugged. "How did you meet him?"

Jazz gave a long, drawn-out sigh as he resigned himself to the wait. "I ran away, sort of, but I had no idea what I was doing. Freshly upgraded mechling," he explained with a wry grin. "All that new coding gives you some pretty stupid ideas. I wasn't about to go back to my creators, thought I would join some street performers...but, you probably know what happens to new mechlings who have no idea what they're doing. I didn't. Started getting followed and I ran into the nearest shop I could find, and Sharp was there. He bought me energon and we talked and he convinced me to go back home, but I got his comm frequency and we kept meeting, and when I got kicked out, I moved in with him."

"What was he doing for credits back then?" she was curious, even if it was really just to keep Jazz talking about the past.

"Pit if I know," Jazz said with a shrug. "He didn't talk about it, I didn't ask. At the time, he was fueling me, and that was really all I cared about."

"You didn't share his berth at first?" an optic ridge rose in distinct surprise.

"Primus no," Jazz laughed. "Don't get me wrong, I wanted to, more than anything, but he thought he was too old for me, that I should be with age-mates. He was probably right," he added with a half-shrug. "So no matter what I did, he behaved perfectly polite and kept his distance, the slagger. Spent more than a few vorns doing everything I could think of to get him interested. And, well," Jazz's grin was huge, "Turns out he wanted me just as badly the entire time. And oh was it marvelous learning how to please him after that."

Though he didn't react to it, Jazz did note the slightly startled look Drift quickly hid.

"It sounds like he's been very good to you," Engineer hummed softly. "He never displayed jealousy towards your other lovers? Not even after you bonded?"

"No," Jazz shook his head. "Not that there have been many, and only for pay when we needed it."

"Does it bother you that he's not as loyal?" Drift suddenly asked from the background.

Jazz tilted his head back. "Why should it?" he asked, quite honestly. "I belong to him, he does as he pleases."

The fighter grunted with a nod, understanding that easily.

"Has he taken you to many cities before you got here?" Engineer worked her back to more useful intel.

Jazz frowned and made himself look uneasy. "A few. Crystal, Central... I would have liked to stay in Central."

"What did you like about Central City?" Engineer asked gently. "Some things aren't exclusive to one city."

"The artisan quarter," Jazz said. "I'd never seen art like that before, everywhere you looked. Even the buildings looked like sculptures. And paintings that made your spark ache just to look at them."

Engineer smiled warmly. "Every city has an artisan quarter. Perhaps you can talk you mate into taking you to some of the others. Iacon and Praxus are amazing, and the Helix Garden is something every mecha should witness at least once."

"I will ask him," Jazz said, giving another impatient glance at the door.

"He's likely to be a couple joors," Engineer said gently as she stood. "You can watch a vid if you want," she motioned to the screen normally covered by an abstract painting. "It gets most channels and VOD. I'm afraid I have to go and check in on a warehouse."

Jazz sighed and nodded, accepting the link-in to the building's entertainment system, ignored Drift and Engineer as they left together, and settled in for the wait.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz was most of the way into a good recharge nap when the door sliding open brought him online fast, startling him upright with a disoriented lurch and a flare of alarm.

"Relax, Strata," Prowl's voice was smooth and comforting, but it did little to hide how tired he was from the mech who knew him well.

Jazz settled with a slow x-vent, rising from the couch and shaking his head to clear his processor of the split moment of panic, having been suddenly and vividly back in Vortex's berth, waiting for the rotor to return. "Engineer said someone tried to hack in, are you all right?" he asked, touching their helms together and running his hands over his mate's frame.

"I'm fine," Prowl promised, relaxing into the intimate contact and sliding his arms around Jazz's waist. "Just tired. Good energon and recharge with you will fix it."

"_Recharge_ with me?" Jazz repeated, field flickering with fond, loving amusement as he reached up to tap Prowl's helm. "Well now I know something is wrong. Do you need a virus scan?"

Prowl chuckled lightly. "You can scan me if it will make you feel better, but I know a much more enjoyable way to convince you I'm fine." His engine gave a deep rumble and he pulled Jazz close for a kiss. "Energon first. I'm in the mood for the warmed cyanide brew they serve at the cafe in our complex."

Jazz hummed happily against him. "Should be empty this time of night, too," he said, and linked their arms together as they started the walk out of the compound. "Engineer gave me something delicious, hydro-fission energon. We'll have to find some, I think she said Mucit was the supplier's designation."

Prowl froze, shock written openly on his features and frame for a moment before he managed to relax and continue walking to the road. "Generous of her. Did she ask anything unreasonable?"

Jazz frowned at him but didn't question. "No, if my entire life's story isn't unreasonable. She asked why we ran."

Prowl hummed in understanding and transformed for the drive home. ::She wants to know how much risk there is in trusting me to stay,:: he explained gently. ::How much did you tell her?::

Jazz pinged him with a file in response, a recording of the entire conversation, both auditory and visual. ::I told her the truth, though in not so many words,:: he said. ::As little as I could where possible.::

::Good,:: Prowl's harmonics were rich with approval. Navigating the late night traffic required little attention so he could give more to the file, though even after he finished with it they allowed a comfortable silence to settle until they reached the complex and transformed. "What would you like at the cafe?"

Jazz glanced at his levels. "Just high grade," he said, not in the mood for anything fancy, and much more interested in the fuel content.

"All right," Prowl leaned in to kiss him, his field rich with affection, privately showing what he was displaying publicly in the close contact. "Have you gotten the notice to begin taking mineral supplements yet?" Excitement flickered in his field and voice.

"Sharp, you will know the _instant_ that happens," Jazz purred, wrapping arms around Prowl's waist, the feel of his mate's excited anticipation for their creations making him fall just that much more in love with him, if it was even possible.

"It should be any orn now," Prowl's anticipation was very real as they walked into the cafe, got their order and found a seat at a small table with a nice view of the street below. "I'm looking forward to seeing your shape when construction is underway and you have a little factory inside you."

"Mm, that makes one of us," Jazz said, teasing, before taking a deep swallow of the high grade, then glanced back at Prowl almost shyly. "As long as you still find me desirable."

"How could I not, when you are building my heir?" Prowl purred. "I will desire you more than ever. Especially desire to fill you with my nanites to help build him."

Jazz shivered. "_That_ I am looking forward to," he said, looking out over the street and the few mecha who were visible. "Engineer suggested Iacon or Praxus, as places to visit. Maybe when he separates?"

"If she is agreeable to the time off, or a short transfer," Prowl nodded. "They both have amazing artist quarters and sights."

Jazz just nodded in response, watching a lone vehicle form drive by. They both settled into a content silence, their fields twined as they finished their drinks. The walk to the lift and to their apartment was much the same. They both still enjoyed the peace of being able to be close without fear of retribution.

Once inside the relative privacy of the space that was slowly starting to look more like a home, they settled next to each other on their berth, legs entwined and helms touching, silent as they set up the safety of the hardline.

~Why were you so surprised to hear Mucit?~ Jazz asked, the question that had been on his mind the entire time.

Prowl chuckled and shook his helm before drawing his love into a long kiss. ~It wasn't Mucit, it was the hydro-fission energon. A cube is worth as much as I earn in a vorn.~

Jazz's optics widened. ~Primus. So much for finding some. Leave it to those two.~

~I won't be procuring it for you anytime soon,~ Prowl kissed him, a hint of regret crossing the hardline along with something good. ~It does mean that she's very serious about trying to court you to ensure she keeps me. I must be more valuable to her than I estimated. That's a good thing.~

~Yes, but how are we going to hide _twins_ from her?~ Jazz asked. ~She was prying, and we can't just keep one in storage all the time. It's kind of hard to explain the extra one running around.~

Prowl x-vented quietly. ~We don't. A calculated risk that I'm worth more to her than what Vortex is offering to get you back. Publicly, we'll need to move around a bit or not be seen, but either we carried at the same time, or you carried them both very close together.~

Jazz grip on Prowl's arm tightened almost painfully. ~_Prowl!_~ he protested. ~If she tells him-if she betrays you-or anyone else who works for her who finds out-he will come for them and _kill_ them!~

Even before Jazz finished he was on his back, pinned under his mate while that powerful mind tried to force calm through the hardline. ~If she betrays me, we run again. There is little danger. We will be ready. The alternative is to leave her employ before they separate and try to find employment in yet another city. We got lucky here.~

Jazz stared up at him, fighting against the panic that was trying to take over, finding comfort he couldn't explain in the pin. ~How will we know if he's coming?~ he finally asked, once he felt steadier.

~The same way we'd know if he found out by other means. They try to capture us. We don't know now if he's coming.~ Prowl's summery was grim but factual.

Jazz shuddered at the truth of it, turning his face away. ~I'm glad Drift is teaching us.~

~Yes, it is well worth the credits and sore valves.~ Prowl relaxed, leaning forward to turn Jazz's face back up and kiss him. ~We will continue to learn new ways to fight. Our advantage will always be that no one will know our full capabilities. We will always have a surprise. Remember, worst case, shift to a jet alt and fly away.~

Jazz nodded. ~When do we tell her?~

~Not soon. I'm still working on determining if that is the most tactical solution,~ Prowl said gently with another kiss. ~Let me worry about who to tell, and when.~

Jazz sighed with relief that was tangible over the hardline. ~I love you,~ he said softly, wrapping his hand around the back of Prowl's neck, pulling the kiss deeper.

~I love you,~ Prowl willingly melted into the kiss, allowing arousal to build within himself. ~Is there anything you desire, beyond me, safety, a berth and energon?~

~Prowl,~ Jazz sighed, slumping back. ~Beyond your spark? Beyond living openly and freely with you, not having to use cover designations?~ His optics unfocused for a moment. ~I grew wanting to run a House, I suppose... that's still what I want, even if I have to alter my definition of House.~

~I will do what I can to arrange that. It may not be a noble House, but a merchant clan can be just as powerful in its own way,~ Prowl purred, excited by the prospect of building something he understood that Jazz _wanted_. ~Is there anything else you with to discuss?~ he asked, seductive and hungry as his spike cover slid open and spike pressurized eagerly.

~No,~ Jazz whispered, his grip on his mate tight and the kiss he pulled him into a desperate kiss as he lifted his hips, bared and offering. ~Just need to feel you.~

~I love filling your needs, all of them,~ Prowl moaned as he pressed in, burying himself in a single smooth thrust as their mingled cries filled the otherwise silence of the room.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz felt like his protoform was squirming in his armor in the crowded heat of the club. Prowl was late, delayed by a wreck on the roads, and Jazz was starting to find it intolerably hot inside, even standing right next to the open door. It had been his last orn, his last performance. Why did Prowl have to be late?

He squirmed again, plating _itching_, then huffed. He would go outside just for a few kliks, then go right back in as soon as his x-vents no longer felt sticky and warm. Maybe ten kliks at most.

The first intake of the outside air was a relief and Jazz hummed with contentment as he walked towards the back of the building, thinking to go sit with the buymecha, a few of whom he knew by designation by now and was friendly enough with to feel safe to sit with. They weren't going to hurt him, and now that he wasn't competition they were more friendly too. He rounded the corner and was just three steps in when a rattle behind him made him stop and turn. He hadn't seen anyone there, but as he looked closer, there was movement in what he'd mistaken for a pile of junk.

The pile uncurled and Jazz realized it was the mech that had tried to pay him right here, looking even more rusted than before if it was possible.

"S you 'gain," the mech rumbled, reeking of overcharge. "Th'ne wouldna let me spike 'im. But y'wanted it. Want't now?"

Jazz took a step back. "Not now," he said.

The pile of scrap stood, his spike fully pressurized by the time he was on his pedes. "Ey thin' ya do." He stalked forward, closing the distance while Jazz stared at his spike.

In the next moment, his valve cover slid away, the sound unmistakable. Another step, but this one froze halfway through and left his legs apart. He hadn't given this as much thought as it needed after the last time, about why it had been so hard to tell the mech _no_ and walk away. Thought that the subject very obviously needed, and now Jazz was kicking himself. It had been too unsettling, and really, he never needed to say no, not in his life with Prowl.

He'd never needed to say no. He'd never been _allowed_ to say no.

Why should that change now? some small part of his processor wondered as the mech shuffled forward. He was longing for his original function in life? He missed knowing what his purpose in this world was? Well, here it was, make the best of it. He'd been created to be a warm frame that supported a valve, hadn't he?

_Hadn't_ he?

"It's just-" Jazz tried to say, but the words came out stilted and lacking any kind of force. "I'm not-"

He felt a credit chip pressed into his hand as the filthy mech took the last step forward that pressed Jazz against the wall. With no other effort, he grabbed Jazz's hips and thrust his spike forward. It was an act his valve understood and responded to eagerly, even as his processors were trying to catch up with the fact that he was being spiked and his frame was ready to start using the transfluid it received for the creations he was building.

He could feel bits of rust scraping off onto his chassis and when an unpleasant, damp mouth was pressed against his he grimaced but didn't turn away. The mech groaned and rattled and humped unevenly against him and Jazz pressed his hands to the wall, fingers clawing back against it, and tried not to enjoy it.

It was hard, it was _so hard_. There was a calm, cruel clarity that said this was his purpose, his function, and that he was just lucky to have found a mech he loved to perform for most of the time. That didn't give him the right to say no to the others who wanted what he was for.

But that wasn't right, it _wasn't right!_ His processor, his frame, they were both acting against his will, betraying him into taking this. Prowl thought he was more than a frame to bury in, Prowl _loved_ him, he was worth _more_ than this!

_Sharp!_ he tried to comm, but it wouldn't engage, and in the time it took him to even begin to wrestle with the traitorous coding that was keeping him here and _enjoying_ it, the mech had reached his overload. Hot, sludge-like transfluid filled his valve, sucked up by newly engaged equipment into a holding tank inside his abdominal cavity. In a horrifying moment Jazz comprehended that _this_ was the first contribution to the twins he carried.

Then the mech moved away, so fast and directly back that the removal of his spike left a flare of pain, quickly forgotten as Jazz realized what had happened.

"You should invest in a better memory," Prowl's voice was a deep growl, furious on a level that Jazz had never heard.

He stared at his mate, whose optics had gone nearly white with rage, and felt himself slumping to the ground as he watched the mech's pointless struggling against the heavier, stronger frame. He was so overcharged Jazz doubted he fully understood what had happened so quickly, but from the wide-opticked terror on his face, he could feel the enraged intent that had to be pummeling him from behind.

As Jazz watched, Prowl grabbed the offending spike and tore it off with one clean twist, only to have the object stuffed into the mech's mouth and down his intake just as the scream began. The vocalizer went next, purely to silence him, ripped straight from his throat and thrown to the ground, where Prowl threw the mech in the next moment and lunged on him, snarling and tearing at the chest with one hand and sinking the other into the shoulder joint with the other and ripping the arm away.

The rusting frame was still strong enough to thrash from the pain, its spine arching up away from the ground as the helm tossed in terrified protest, but it had nowhere near the strength to dislodge the enraged Praxian who was working to tear off the other arm now. The joint separated with a sharp crack and Prowl grabbed the neck as soon as the limb had been thrown aside, crushing the intake and ripping easily through the crumbling chest plating, tearing the armor right off.

Energon spilled out into a pool beneath them as the attack continued, the horrified revving of the mech's engines and the sound of cables snapping and metal screeching in protest as the rest of the frame was savaged nowhere near as loud as the growling coming from Prowl's engines and vocalizer.

It lasted less than two kliks, and by the end, the mech couldn't be called that anymore. There was sparklight, indicated some lingering amount of life, but the pile of energon-soaked parts in the middle of the alley was not going to survive. There was a frustrated snarl as Prowl looked for something else to tear, rip, crush, _destroy_, and when he found it all already ruined, his head snapped up and the white optics pinned Jazz.

In the time it took Jazz to process that he was the next target of that rage, he watched Prowl hard reboot. Optics went black. Frame sagged. The entire control network for the mech turned off for a fraction of a nanoklik to reset.

Prowl's optics came back on their normal shade of ice blue and he straightened, a bewildered look on his face.

"Sharp..." Jazz whispered, staring at him, still not daring to move. His mate looked at him, at himself, at the flickering light at his pedes.

"What happened?" Prowl asked even as his processor clicked on the fact that the mech beneath him would not survive. He grabbed the biggest pieces and made quick work of checking for anything valuable while he arranged the parts to be lost in the junk and shadow.

"You don't...?" Jazz said, pushing himself more upright, watching his lover sifting through the pieces of frame with detached fascination. "You pulled him off me," he said, grimacing as he felt transfluid running down the inside of his leg from the burst that had come as Prowl had yanked the mech away, reaching down to wipe at it. "Sharp," he said again, voice cracking with a sharp burst of static as he stared at the smear on his fingertips. "I'm getting mineral supplement notices."

"The reboot locked the memory away," Prowl explained before he caught up with the rest of what Jazz said. That forced him to freeze and assess the situation again. Coding that he'd spent countless joors writing and integrating bloomed over his awareness, trying to consume him. His vents and engine stuttered before he forced himself to finish the task at hand. Only when his kill was reasonably well hidden did he turn on his mate, pulling Jazz upright against the wall and pinning him there with a hot frame and eager spike, his field a riot with a single demand.

"Mine," Prowl hissed, his spike already hard and extended between them as he caught one of Jazz's knees to angle him better for the thrust in.

Jazz gave a short, startled groan at how quickly he was filled, hands sliding under Prowl's arms and coming up to grip his shoulders from behind, pressing his face against his mate's neck and holding him tightly. "Yours," he managed. "I'm sorry-Sharp-I'm so, I'm-" He broke off with a sharp cry as Prowl's pelvis slammed into his.

"_Mine_," Prowl hissed again, demanding and claiming as much as his hard paced thrusting did. "Don't want sorry. Want _you_."

Jazz moaned and nodded, hiking his leg up as high as he could and just holding on, rocking under the drives that were scraping his back against the wall, pain that turned into a harsh, grounding distraction from everything else. It hurt so much less to just cling to his mate and not think, letting his frame and vocalizer react automatically as time rushed forward and he lost track of how many times Prowl had overloaded into him.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz's optics flickered on at the end of a groggy-feeling reboot that only initiated because of the fuel and supplement alerts. He was in his own berth-he had hazy, partial memories of making it back here the previous night and being thrown onto his back and pinned there-and he was registering a very sore valve, still full of thick, pressurized spike, and constriction from Prowl's arms wrapped tightly around him, the Praxian's engines still rumbling even in recharge.

"Sharp," Jazz said, very quietly, not daring to move. It was enough to rouse his mate, though it still took Prowl a klik to light his optics.

"Hungry?" Prowl's question was groggy, his systems sluggish and wanting energon themselves. But he was fully himself and focused on Jazz's needs.

"Yes," Jazz said, relieved to hear the sanity in his mate's voice.

A nuzzle and affection greeted the statement as Prowl gently untangled himself from his mate and kissed him softly before getting up to fetch two cubes of cheap but potent high grade they used for rapid energy recovery. A packet of supplement wafers also came with it.

"Did I hurt you?" Prowl asked solicitously as he offered the wafer packet and a cube.

"No," Jazz said, before pushing himself up enough to down the cube in a single tip and accepting the wafers. He slipped the first into his mouth, absently noting the unfamiliar sensation of the minerals being absorbed into his systems, his primary attention still focused on Prowl.

Prowl's cube went down just as fast and he dissipated it before snuggling up against Jazz, pulling him close, possessive in a way that still wasn't natural but was no longer threatening. "Energy levels?"

"Ninety-seven," Jazz answered, unresisting and wrapping his arms around his mate. "You're supposed to be at work?" he asked.

"I won't be going in today," Prowl said with finality as he claimed a kiss. "I have more important things to do right now."

Jazz nodded as he spread his legs open for his mate. Later, they would talk. Later he would _think_. Right now he wanted to do nothing more than lose himself to the sire of his creations and take as much of his spill as he could physically hold.

"Love you," Prowl moaned into another kiss as he covered his mate and sank into that welcoming valve. "Want you. Love you. Our creations are _ours_." Prowl's litany continued between kisses until he lost himself in the pleasure and the drive to imprint as much of himself on the protoforms now being constructed as he was physically able.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was another orn and a half before Prowl came out of his code-induced rutting, his systems demanding energon that he gave them and additives he wasn't expecting to need. It did clear his processors, though, as his systems refused to allow the sire code to continue having him produce the nanite rich transfluid until he was ready to. It was odd, knowing how much he'd pumped out and so little mess on the berth. Plenty of lubricant, but nothing from him.

He knelt on the berth and nudged Jazz to boot up, energon and wafers in hand. It was improbable in the extreme that Jazz didn't need them.

Jazz gave a groan of protest as his vocalizer came online, his entire frame sore in ways he'd never experienced before. His valve he was familiar with, but the aching from joints that had been jarred for nearly two straight orns, all told, even with the brief recharge breaks, was new.

He accepted the energon and supplements, ingested both, and then waited for Prowl to push him to the berth. When the movement didn't come, his optics flickered in faint surprise as he looked at his mate, questioning.

"I'm too low on the minerals to make the nanites quickly," Prowl explained with a gentle, light kiss. "So I'm mostly myself for a while, and I now know enough to control the length and timing of these encounters. You must be sore, given what my spike feels like."

Jazz shifted, getting a feel for what his valve felt like with movement, and winced a little. "Sore, but nothing is ripped or torn and the entire piece is intact so I'm not going to complain," he said as he sat the rest of the way up. "Are you going back to work?"

"I need to," Prowl shifted uneasily. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"Do you trust Drift to watch me?" Jazz asked, biting down on the response that he could take care of himself, because clearly, that was actually in question right now.

A deep growl came from Prowl's engine before he forced himself to calm down. "No. I don't trust him to keep his spike where it belongs. He's too used to fragging you." Prowl let out a gust of air and rested his forehelm against Jazz's. He definitely didn't trust the bigger mech. And truth be told, right now, he didn't trust his mate to keep his legs closed if Drift expressed interest, but he wasn't telling Jazz that part right now. "I want you where I can see you, at least for a few orns."

Jazz nuzzled back. "My manager knew I was done as soon as I started constructing, it's not like I have anywhere else to be. I'll come with you." He paused and glanced down at himself. "After I clean."

"After we both clean up," Prowl chuckled. "A rinse here and a proper stop in the washrack. We'll pick up replacement energon and the supplements I need after work. We can get a pain blocker on the way in, if you want. You shouldn't pay for my lack of control."

"No," Jazz said, standing and stretching, getting a better feel of his frame. "I like this."

"All right," Prowl kissed him softly. "You will let me know if it begins to bother you."

"I will," Jazz promised.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz was clean, refueled, and _frustrated_. Prowl had given him the access codes to the reading sources kept for those who worked here that covered a huge variety of topics and shown him where to access the logic puzzles some of the operatives trained on, but Jazz wasn't interested in those. Maybe later, but right now, he was on his back on a lounge that had been set up in the back of his mate's office, staring at the ceiling as he replayed the memory of the rusted mech over and over.

He'd given it very little thought after the first encounter and set it aside as an unsettling anomaly, but it was clearly more than that. There had been no desire there, _none_, he knew that much, and there should have been nothing keeping him from telling the mech to frag off and ignoring him. Jazz had the stronger frame, and was getting better at hand-to-hand combat and self-defense. It wasn't like the gang rape, when there had been little point in resisting.

Though, come to think of it, he hadn't made those mecha work very hard to get his valve, either.

So, what-he saw a spike and spread his legs? The thought was enough to make him scoff the first time he had it, but it was one he kept coming back to. Three times since running he'd been faced with an unwanted 'face, and all of them he'd opened. That last time, without any kind of fight, had felt-

Jazz quickly cut that line of thought iff and focused inward. He wasn't so desperate to 'face that he would take anything, he knew that. But the moment of calm clarity, of absolute rightness that he'd felt...

With a sigh, Jazz brought up his coding, searching for the scripts that been active during the event. He couldn't understand code the way Prowl could, but that wasn't going to stop him from scouring through it.

The clearest thought he could remember while having the glitch's spike in him had been that that was his purpose and function and he should be _glad_ to be fulfilling it, but that wasn't _right_. His function had been to bond to a first creation and carry, run a House, but nothing in that should have forced him to accept rape. Subordinate bondeds were _not_ pleasure slaves for their mates.

Vortex had forced him to act as one, though. Jazz couldn't remember a single time when he'd felt safe saying no to the rotor, it had literally been a matter of survival, and that...

That realization got him where he needed to be, and as soon as he saw the broken line of code and what it had been warped into, he snarled, and came up out of his processors cursing loudly.

"That fragging, glitch-addled _Pit spawn!_" he shouted, rising smoothly to his feet, looking for something, _anything_ that he could tear apart if he couldn't have Vortex, hardly seeing the very bad start that his mate gave before spinning.

"Whoa!" Prowl was on his pedes, facing his mate with bright optics and combat-tightened armor. "Strata, calm down." He caught Jazz by the shoulders to still him, then shifted one hand down to a dataport by Jazz's collar armor.

Jazz snarled again, the sound directed not at Prowl but at the frustration of having _nothing_ to grab hold of and wreck, fingers flexing around air. After a moment, the port spiraled open and it took everything he had to hold still enough for Prowl to plug in.

~My coding is fragging _warped!_~ Jazz yelled as soon as he felt Prowl's systems peripheral with his own. ~Saying no wasn't even an option-saying no could get one of us _killed_ and it fragging _wrecked my coding!_ That _glitch_-that sick-that twisted miswired _pile of defected parts!_ I will kill him, _I will KILL him!_~

Prowl rocked slightly on his heel plates at the ferocity of his mate's rage even as part of him delighted that Jazz had that kind of fire in him. He didn't even try to interrupt the free-flow ranting until it seemed to have simmered down, listening quietly until Jazz apparently ran out of ideas for curses. ~So survival coding edited your options. You can't refuse to interface.~

Jazz hissed. ~Apparently. I swear if I see _any_ influence from that 'face in the twins I'm going to melt his rotors off one by one and _pour them down his intake!_~

~You, we, will do far worse than that when we are finally in a position to destroy him,~ Prowl purred darkly, drawing his love close and trying to help bleed off the excess energy. ~Do you want me to help you change the coding so you can choose freely?~

~_Yes!_~ was the overwhelmingly loud response, followed by a quieter growl. ~Fragging going to peel his spike away wire by wire, file down all those ridges, melt whatever is left, and then have a dozen more to fix back on and destroy after that.~

~We will indulge in everything when he is ours,~ Prowl promised. ~The editing will take time, focus and energy. I will need to be rested and caught up here.~ He brushed a thumb over Jazz's cheek. ~No one will get close enough to you to try until then.~

Jazz flexed his fingers once more, hissed, then let the rest of the tension drain out of his frame. He nodded, then looked past Prowl at the chair that had actually toppled as he had leapt up. ~Ah...I think I interrupted you,~ he said, a small laugh rippling through him.

~You scared me,~ Prowl leaned in for a tender kiss. ~But I am glad to know that what happened was defective code.~

Jazz grabbed him and deepened the kiss with a very distracting swirl of his glossa and press of his frame. ~So am I. Go back to work. Are there games where I can blow things up?~

Prowl rumbled with desire, his honest response to attention from his mate, but managed to pull himself back when his vents opened up a notch. ~Yes.~ A short string of titles was sent with the glyph. Reluctantly he unplugged and stepped back to right his chair and go back to work.

Jazz smirked to himself as he started browsing the options. Today was not the right time to actively distract his mate from work. The missed orns had left Prowl with a huge amount to catch up on, and Jazz knew it was important that he finish as quickly as he could.

But if that sire coding kept him here for too long, he was definitely going to see what he could do about tempting his lover away from that desk.


	18. Being a Carrier

Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.  
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .  
Archiveofourown-org/works/637909/chapters/1155977

Starcrossed 18: Being a Carrier  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seven orns.

Jazz groaned in a combination of relief and frustration at finally being _out_ again. Prowl had done all he could to keep him entertained, but games and reading did not cut it after so long. He wasn't made to sit in an office like Prowl was, he wanted to be out and _doing_ something. At least now with his coding un-fragged, a task that had been harder than either of them expected, he wasn't going to risk having the twins influenced by any other mecha who expressed interest just by being outside. A visible carrier tended to attract attention.

He was sticking to safe parts of the city, though, wandering through a market district that the small population of nobles in the city favored. Many of them sent their servants here for errands, and those were the mecha Jazz came for.

"Strata! Haven't seen you in a while!" A familiar merchant waved to him. "You're finally showing, too."

"I bet Sharp didn't let you out of the berth," a deep red minibot with a dancer's frame grinned as soon as he spotted the carrier. "You're in the fun stage."

Jazz waved back as he walked up, grinning. "I've never been so sore in my life," he confessed, glancing over the merchant's counter. "Please tell me you still have some of those copper-filled things left."

"Always," Confection smiled warmly. "How many would you like?"

"About a hundred," Jazz said, rolling his optics, but handed him a credit stick with enough on it for three. "Please tell me something interesting is happening somewhere, I am starved for gossip."

"Always," Whisper Wind laughed playfully. "Sweetness, he works in the kitchen at the estate I do, just found out he's expecting twins. I thought it might be normal, he's Praxian and all, but they were just as shocked as everyone else."

"Twins everywhere," Jazz said as he held his hand out for the silver spherical treats from Confection. "I'd never heard of any twin carriers before and that's two in as many metacycles," he said before putting one in his mouth and humming happily at the taste. "Do Praxians have a lot of twins or something?"

"I thought they did because they trine like Seekers do," Whisper Wind shrugged. "Turns out they don't. That noble set is probably lucky their carrier hasn't been found." He shuddered. "I knew someone who went to work for Lord Vortex. He said it's better to live in the gutters."

Jazz sighed. "But just think what that servant could be doing to him," he said quietly, then shook his head sharply. "But that's too depressing for me. Sweetness should go to Iacon," he told Whisper Wind, perking back up. "They'll pay for all the carrying costs just to study it."

"Praxus will too, and they're already negotiating to go," Whisper Wind nodded. "I'll miss them, but it's too big an opportunity for them to pass up."

Jazz hummed in agreement, waved in thanks to Confection, and started walking along with Whisper Wind. "Free supplements would be worth it alone," he said. "I'm so glad Sharp found good work, I wouldn't have been able to afford it just dancing."

"I'm sure you'd manage it somehow," Whisper Wind said confidently as they paused at a high grade merchant for Whisper Wind to place an order for the House. "It's a lot safer when you can get everything your systems are asking for."

Jazz nodded, then grinned. "Would you believe," he said when Whisper Wind stepped away. "Sharp made me set my alerts at 90 percent?"

"First time sire, first time carrier? Oh yeah, I believe it." He snickered. "You're lucky he lets you out of his sight at all."

Jazz chuckled. "I can be persuasive," he said. "Though he might use different adjectives. Speaking of, hang on."

"Checking in?" Whisper Wind asked with a knowing grin.

Jazz just smiled and nodded as he commed Prowl. ::I'm still alive and I'm not being stalked by anyone,:: he sent.

::Good. Thank you.:: Prowl managed a respectful reply. ::I am actually getting work done.::

::I can come change that if you'd like,:: Jazz purred.

::Save your energy for when I get home with you,:: Prowl rumbled deeply. ::I took my supplements this morning. I'll be well-primed by the time I'm done here.::

::Good, because I want that spike between my legs,:: Jazz said before disconnecting the link, then saw the look that Whisper Wind was giving him and realized the kind of expression he had on his face. "Well?" he laughed. "Like you said, this is the fun part."

"I got the feeling that you've always enjoyed the fun part, carrying or not," Whisper Wind grinned back. "You need to pick up anything, or just here to escape the berth for a bit?"

"Who wouldn't enjoy the fun part?" Jazz asked, glancing idly at the shops they were passing by, looking for anything of interest in the windows. "And mostly I just needed to get out and move and actually see some mecha."

Whisper Wind nodded understandingly and they walked in companionable silence for a little ways.

"Do you think," Jazz said suddenly, "That that twin carrier, the botnapped one, do you think that's what actually happened?"

"From all I know of noble Houses and that oligarch in particular, no," Whisper Wind shook his helm. "If it was any mech other than a seneschal, I'd have more doubts, but seneschals are hardwired for loyalty. Literally hardwired for it. Unless that seneschal was severely glitched to the level any noble would have put him down he'd have been physically incapable of taking his noble anywhere the noble didn't want to go."

Jazz gave a soft, thoughtful hum. "I like that thought much better," he finally said. "I hate imagining the carrier being alone and afraid somewhere." He held his hand up to his abdomen. "I don't think I could stand it."

"You'd be surprised the strength you can find in creator coding," Whisper Wind smiled gently and patted his arm. "Whatever part of the story we aren't hearing, I know there's a lot of it. A seneschal couldn't do that. He'd short himself out before he knowingly distressed his noble. But Vortex," he shuddered. "There's not much that mech won't do, and enjoy. I heard from first hand accounts. Stuff that even the Senate won't accept."

"And he's too rich to do anything about it," Jazz sighed. "I hope you're right."

"I hope they're happy, wherever they are, and the sparklings are raised by loving creators," Whisper Wind agreed before they silently agreed to switch to safer topics.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Prowl stalked through a weapons warehouse that even a metacycle ago he'd have had no use for. Right now, he was itching for the kind of controlled violence that a powerful riffle and targets that didn't fight back had to offer. He'd stopped questioning the influence of the military protocols he'd downloaded and their odd effects when mixed with his already specialized and somewhat damaged programming. It wasn't worth the processor ache as long as it didn't cause a problem.

Right now, it was just giving him a new option for tension relief.

"Hey!" a loud voice rumbled over when he got close to the crates that were waiting to be inventoried before shipping, and Prowl looked up to see one of the laborers stalking towards him. "Th'frag d'you think you're doin' in here? Get back upstairs before you blow somethin' up!"

"I have a right to test fire whatever I want," Prowl growled back at the worker, instinctively IDing him. No one important, but a mech able to challenge an unknown presence, which Prowl clearly was to him.

"That's Sharp, the new lieutenant. He's cleared," the warehouse boss called out from a catwalk.

Prowl glanced up at him and nodded.

The mech eyed him up and down, decided that Prowl wasn't big enough to be a threat anyway, grunted, and stalked back off.

"The focus blasters are pretty good for that kind of mood," Synchron commented from the catwalk . He gestured towards a pile of crates that weren't going in the next shipment. "They use a crystal to focus the energy, so the damage is smaller in area but more severe where it actually hits."

"Thanks," Prowl nodded and moved towards the crates. He hefted one, then put it back. Too heavy for his tastes. He liked to move. The next caliber down felt good in his hands and he grabbed a couple extra power cells for it before heading to the small range in back. It wasn't much, but it was good enough for customers to use to check out the quality of prospective purchases. Just because they were black market didn't mean that the buyers weren't expecting quality for their credits.

Right now Prowl just wanted to find out if this new urge on how to release tension was worth investing energy into. He stepped up to the static line, nothing more than a target sheet pinned to the back wall, registered the weapon he was using so the system knew how much power was headed downrange and brought the light riffle to his shoulder. Targeting was new to him but it used all the same vectoring protocols he was used to for moving about.

The first shot was off, near the edge of the target. The second halved the distance to the center. The third halved it again.

The forth was a perfect hole in the center.

The next three shots went through that hole and Prowl nodded to himself, comfortable that he knew how to use this weapon, and anything else like it.

The shot that followed right after his came from behind and from a larger weapon, taking out the entire center of the target. Prowl hit the deck and spun around to level his weapon to average spark height before he'd even processed the hit.

Drift's pleased rumble was more of a chuckle, unconcerned with having a weapon aimed at him. "Is there anything you don't pick up quickly?"

Prowl relaxed himself by force, getting to his pedes with a scowl. "Do you have a death wish?"

"Didn't know I did," Drift said, still grinning. "Didn't think you were that easy to startle."

"I was focusing too much," Prowl muttered, once more wishing for a form with wings. He missed having the extra input about his environment. "Why are you here?"

"Bored," Drift shrugged, and lifted his heavy blaster back up to his shoulder, taking another shot. "Don't have your mate around to entertain me anymore in my downtime."

Prowl grunted. "You have no idea how lucky you are. Sire coding's a pain between the hyper possessiveness and wanting to spike him every single moment. It's fun and all, but _no_ variety."

Drift frowned and set the weapon down, leaning on it in a way that Prowl was sure it wasn't meant for. "Variety like what?"

Prowl shrugged. "Like oral, foreplay, games. Primus help me if I'm in the mood for a spike," he rolled his optics. "Spark play isn't even that welcome." He huffed. "I _like_ variety. Sire coding doesn't. Killed my endurance too."

Drift chuckled. "Yeah, but endless rounds of fragging and not letting anyone else touch him? Sounds like fun to me. I'd say sign me up if it didn't mean ending up with a sparkling in the end."

"Unplanned or not, I'm looking forward to it," Prowl smiled a bit. "Someone to raise and train as I see fit. It'll know what I teach them, think the way I want it to. It'll be less than a century before it's useful."

Drift shifted his weight a little. "I guess that's one way to look at it," he said. "So do you, you know, think you'll keep Strata around once you have it?"

Prowl shook his helm with a chuckle. "I'll keep him as long as I'm enjoying him. I don't see that ending anytime soon. He's good in the berth and willing to do anything for me. Nothing not to like there."

Drift's engines rumbled in a deep laugh. "True enough, you've got it pretty good. Pretty surprised you let him out of your office. We were taking bets on how long he'd be in there."

A deep groan answered that. "Blame my work ethic. You have no idea how distracting that mech can be when he's bored, and he gets bored _easy_ in a small space. It's his only real detracting trait. He's active. Hoping that mellows with age, and a sparkling or two to keep track of and control."

"I'm sure you can train it out of him," Drift assured him. "Especially as he gets older. Young mecha can be high strung."

"I know," Prowl agreed. "I should get back to work." He hefted the medium riffle and walked out, sure Drift would be blasting targets for a couple joors. The mech _liked_ violence entirely too much. At least he was useful.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was a relief to finally be home for the orn and Prowl was eager to push Jazz down onto the berth. As much as he liked to complain about the monotony of it and missed their normal interfacing habits, there was something truly marvelous about knowing they were strengthening and creating their twins together.

But when he opened the door and stepped in, all thoughts of interfacing vanished. The lights were off, the window was darkened. ::Strata!:: he called, starting to crouch into a defensive position.

"It's all right," came the purr and Prowl frowned, focusing in on it. He commanded the lights on, but they would only rise to a quarter intensity. It was enough to see, though, and he saw Jazz near the top of his dancing pole, hanging on with one hand, perched against it.

"I see I'm not the only one who got bored," Prowl purred deeply, his engine rumbling in anticipation. Oh yes, he had missed this playfulness.

"I'm tired of looking at the ceiling," Jazz said, staying where he was, pointing at their berth with the hand he wasn't using to keep himself up. "On your back, my pet."

Prowl shivered at the tone and words. It had been entirely too long. "Yes, my Lord," he rumbled and moved swiftly to comply. His frame stretched out, relaxed and on display for his master.

Jazz didn't move anything but his head as he watched Prowl settle, a pleased smirk on his lips, before dropping down and landing in an easy crouch. The movement lacked his normal flawless grace, hampered by the carrying frame, but the rise to his pedes was smooth as he walked over, holding something in his hand. He walked around near Prowl's head and held it out for him to clearly see: a set of handcuffs.

"It would please me to use these," he said softly, and waited. He wouldn't put them on unless Prowl moved his hands out for them. If he didn't, Jazz would simply subspace them and continue without, but the choice to be bound was Prowl's. He could feel the tension, there were a lot of bad memories and danger in the concept, but there was also so much appeal from vorns before. He'd learned that almost by accident just how much Prowl enjoyed light bondage. But that had been before Vortex, too. Before everything changed.

With a gradual movement that held more certainty by the time they settled, Prowl lifted his arms over his helm and held his wrists together.

Jazz wordlessly fixed the cuffs around his lover's offered wrists, clicking them into place and pressing down on Prowl's arm for a moment, indicating his hands were to stay over his head, but there would be no physical tie keeping him there. That done, he slipped up onto the bed and shifted to lay out on top of him, pressing a deep kiss against his mouth. "So perfectly obedient for me," he murmured, and put his fingers against Prowl's chest, pushing himself up. "My beautiful pet."

"To please my Lord is my function," Prowl moaned softly, his optics locked on Jazz's frame, but far more focused on the spark and processors it contained than the details.

Jazz smiled and hummed, settling himself back into a straddle over Prowl's hips, keeping himself lifted just enough that there was no contact to his lover's spike panel. "It is," he purred. "But I hear you have everyone fooled into thinking I am _your_ berth warmer, when we both know it's the other way around, don't we?"

"We do, my Lord," Prowl shivered, moaning softly. "They believe what they want. I just don't correct them. I am yours."

"You are," Jazz whispered, leaning forward, holding himself up on his hands, brushing their lips together but not deeply enough for a real kiss. His hips lowered, scraped lightly over Prowl's. "You will give me your spike, and I will ride you until I have everything you have to offer for our creation, until you're so used and spent you can hardly move."

Prowl could only moan. His cover snapped open and his spike jutted out, pressurizing as fast as it could, sliding up along Jazz's bared valve as it extended. Around them Prowl's field snapped and roared with his _want_, desire born of both the mech above him and the thought of contributing to his creations. "Please, my Lord. Use me. I exist to serve."

Jazz rubbed along the length of his mate's spike, platelets tickling and teasing the textured surface. "I'll use you until you're sore," he promised, voice deepening with desire he couldn't hide. "Beg for it," he purred. "Beg for my valve, beg to spill your release into me."

A whine escaped Prow as his hips rolled up, rubbing his spike along Jazz's valve array. "Please, my Lord. Use me, permit me to contribute to your heir, allow me to pleasure you and fill you as you desire. Use me until I have nothing left to give."

Jazz couldn't hide the shiver that went through him as he basked in the rich tenor of his mate's voice, angling his hips up and lifting himself far enough to align with the extended spike. He sank down in a single movement, groaning in unison with his lover as he brought their arrays together, sitting upright and then leaning back, holding himself up on his arms. "My pet," he moaned, helm tossing back in his bliss as he started to move. "_Mine_, all mine."

"All yours," Prowl swore, meaning it with all his spark. His hips pushed up, relishing the sensation of being inside his mate but not the driving force. "I desire no other. All I am is for you."

Jazz's frame shook with pleasure with each downward slide as he took Prowl in. "So good," he gasped, rocking his hips. One hand lifted up to his throat, gripping for a moment, before it ran down his front and stopped over his spike cover, flexing his fingers against it before it slid away and his spike pressurized into his palm. He squeezed, turned his wrist, and stroked in time with the rhythm he moved with against his lover, setting a hard, fast pace that would satisfy both their creator coding. "You please me so well," he moaned, valve shivering blissfully around Prowl's spike.

"Good," Prowl moaned, his entire awareness focused on timing the roll of his hips to suit the pace and angles that his mate had selected. "Want to please you. Want to be desirable. Want you to keep me, want me, use me," he panted with the rising pleasure. He had almost no endurance now, protocols dictated that this act had a purpose beyond pleasure and intimacy. His overload strengthen his creations, so his frame drove him to that overload as quickly as it could. "You're so good to me, forgiving me my weakness."

"Not weakness," Jazz managed as he rode back against him. "Strength, for me, our creation, filling my frame, giving me everything-" He broke off with a sharp gasp as his fingers tightened around his own spike. "Give me your overload and I'll let you move your arms," he promised, shivering. "I'll let you touch me."

Prowl keened and bucked up, what little self-control he had stripped from him at the words, the praise, permission and promise they held. The first burst of transfluid rushed against the pleasure nodes at the top of Jazz's valve, then through the even more sensitive tube to feed into the reservoir for building the protoforms.

"_Yes!_" Jazz cried, shaking with the blissful pleasure of it, the rightness of feeling Prowl filling him, though his rhythm never faltered as his lover seized beneath him. When he felt the charge of the overload dissipate he let go of his spike, moved his hand back down, and tipped his head forward, meeting Prowl's pleasure-bright optics. "Touch me, overload me," he commanded, voice thick with static and field heavy with _want_.

Bound hands came forward without hesitation, Prowl's hips still thrusting into his mate as his charge built for a second discharge. He caressed Jazz's face, down his chest to pay special attention to the construction chamber that had expanded Jazz's abdominal structure as far out as his chest. He could feel the heat, the vibration of the machinery working hard to build two protoforms.

"So beautiful," Prowl whispered, awed that he was indeed the creator of mecha he would raise.

"So are you," Jazz purred, leaning forward into the touches, armor loose and panting. "My pet, you are so perfect, so good, you earn everything I give you, every touch, you are the one I choose as lover, as sire, as mate, my love, always." His hips sped up and his fingers gripped the berth while he moved in effort to coax more transfluid from Prowl.

Prowl shook and thrust, his fingers moving down to capture Jazz's thickly ruffled spike in both hands, stroking, curling his fingers inward to rub between the ruffles. "Overload for me, my beautiful Lord," he gasped as he thrust, his charge already high again. "Allow me to witness your bliss."

Jazz's hips bucked up and broke the rhythm of his movements, torn between the rapture from Prowl's spike and the ecstasy from his fingers, and with a deep, strangled moan he sank down fully and overload shot through his frame, bright arcs of static crackling away from his plating and jumping to Prowl where they touched, shooting transfluid onto his chest and cycling his valve in rippling bliss as he screamed his joy.

All Prowl could do was join him, keening sharply as he lost himself completely to the bliss of pleasuring his mate so fully. The shift in tone of Jazz's cries when transfluid hit the sensor nodes deep inside him and was sucked into his frame to be used struck an even deeper cord in Prowl and he sobbed, his vents and frame shuddering at the intensity of the perfection.

Jazz fell forward when his arms gave out, pressing their chests flush together directly over their sparks. He shook and bucked his hips back unevenly, driving himself relentlessly onto Prowl's spike. His over-sensitized valve, still hot from overload, quivered from the friction, but he didn't slow the pace of their coupling. "More," he begged, sobbed, commanded. "Give me _more_."

"Anything, everything," Prowl moaned, swore, as he worked his hands out from between them and over Jazz's helm so he could hold his lover while they pushed their frames, especially Prowl's frame, to the very limit. Eventually Prowl stilled after he overloaded, frame lax and helm lolling to the aside. Only the cuffs securing his wrists together maintained the embrace he had around his lover.

Jazz groaned and managed to rouse himself after a klik enough to reach back and fumble for the lock mechanism that would trigger the cuffs open, found it, then let his arm fall again as he pulled them both sideways so they could curl together. "My perfect love," he murmured, bringing his hands up to caress Prowl's helm.

"So perfect. So very perfect," Prowl mumbled, more reflex than actual thought as his arms fell to his sides.

Jazz smiled and nuzzled his mate, settling in with him for recharge, feeling the warm, relaxed humming from the twin sparks in response to his own happiness. As his attention slowly drifted, he felt a suddenly impatient twinge and onlined his optics again.

~Goina pay attention to me now?~ a voice asked.

"Sharp!" Jazz whispered, shaking his mate.

~He makes you tired,~ a second voice added. ~You should pay attention to us instead.~

"Mhuu?" Prowl forced his optics on line and to focus despite the top priority demand of his systems to recharge deeply.

"He's talking," Jazz said, grinning despite the overwhelming fatigue in his frame.

~_We!_~ the pair of voices corrected immediately.

~I know,~ Jazz said. ~Sharp knows, your sire. No one else can know.~

~Going to be obvious soon,~ one of the twins pointed out with a rumble.

It took that long for Prowl's sluggish processors to work out the meaning of Jazz's words, then his optics brightened and he pawed at Jazz's dataport even as his own opened.

Jazz chuckled as he helped his drowsy mate set up the hardline. ~We're working on that,~ he assured the twins as he dropped his firewalls for Prowl and accepted the rapid connection ping that followed.

~What are they saying? Can they hear me?~ Prowl asked as he forced his processors online.

~We can hear you,~ the second voice chirped.

~Who are you?~ the first asked with a possessive surge.

~Your sire,~ Jazz said.

~'Sharp?'~

~Yes, that is what mecha call me here.~ Prowl answered, a bit awkward with the processor-processor-spark-spark conversation setup. ~My real designation is Prowl.~

~Prowl,~ the second repeated. ~Why are you lying?~

~To protect you,~ Jazz said.

~There is a mech trying to capture us, and you,~ Prowl said more coherently. ~If he does, he will kill both of us, and likely one of you. We do not dare use our real designations out loud no matter how distracted we are.~

~No one is hurting Sideswipe!~ the first voice growled. ~I won't let him.~

~Neither are we,~ Prowl replied. ~What is your designation?~ he tried to direct the thought-words towards the sparkling that had spoken. It was more difficult than he imagined it would be.

~He is Sunstreaker,~ Sideswipe answered for his twin. ~Why would someone try to hurt him?~

~To hurt Prowl and me,~ Jazz said. ~Please do not worry about him, we will protect you. We are doing everything we can to keep you safe.~

Sunstreaker gave a pleased rumble at that. ~I want to _move_.~

~That will take time,~ Prowl said reasonably. ~You must be in your frame and your frame out of Jazz first.~

~Jazz is Carrier,~ Sideswipe surmised. ~Jazz likes moving, moving with you makes him happy, thank you.~

Jazz smiled at his mate. ~Prowl makes me very happy.~

~Especially when I wear him out enough to recharge,~ Prowl purred. ~And yes, Jazz likes to move.~

~I can't wait to move,~ Sunstreaker said. ~Just like you.~

~That will take a bit longer,~ Jazz murmured, fond amusement in his words.

~Carrier wants to recharge,~ Sideswipe told his twin. ~I am glad you can hear us now,~ he said to his creators.

~So are we,~ Jazz said. ~And yes, I would like to recharge. So would Prowl,~ he said, looking at his mate's dimming optics.

~Yes, very glad,~ Prowl said, though it wasn't as well directed. Jazz had asked for everything he had to give, and he'd given. Even this short conversation was eating into his reserves. ~Talk more later,~ he promised, no longer able to keep his processors from shutting down along with his frame.

Jazz nuzzled his recharging mate fondly and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, enjoying the warmth of the frame and feel of Prowl's field mingled with his own.

~Recharge well,~ Sideswipe said, and Sunstreaker rumbled in agreement.

Jazz pulsed as much love into his spark as he could, before his systems followed Prowl's into deep, needed recharge.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz looked up from where he was sitting on the berth working with a blaster, practicing taking it apart and putting it back together, examining the pieces carefully as he did. He smiled warmly at his mate. "Welcome home," he said, staying where he was. "What kind of mood are you in today?"

"The mood to talk," Prowl chuckled and settled on the berth far enough away not to disturb his mate. "You can finish that first, though."

Jazz hummed as he rapidly put the pieces together with a set of flawless, practiced motions, twisted the barrel back into place with a click, and looked up at his mate, handing him the weapon. "I like this model," he said.

"Good," Prowl's pleasure was audible. "It's good you can defend yourself better now." He moved over and reached to cup Jazz's cheek to draw him in for a chaste kiss full of warmth. "Your target scores have improved as well."

Jazz hummed back into the kiss and pulled Prowl in close as he lay down, bringing his mate down with him as he reclined back. "I like knowing I'll be able to protect our creation," he said, pressing his fingers over Prowl's dataport. It slid open immediately and the connection was welcomed the moment the cable connected.

~Love you, all three of you,~ Prowl said first. ~How are our twins doing?~

~Resting,~ Jazz said, nuzzling against Prowl's helm. ~There was chatter about us today. Prowl and Jazz us.~ He kept his voice and field as soothing as possible so as not to alarm his mate with those words.

~What kind of chatter?~ Prowl still tensed, but he kept it mild, confident that if his mate wasn't concerned he didn't need to be.

~Some more thugs at Whisper Wind's House poking around, asking about how long Sweetness had lived there, demanding his employment records,~ Jazz said. ~Nothing to worry about, we just happen to live in the same city that another known twin carrier did.~

~Nothing that will harm him, his trine or their twins either, if I recall correctly. He worked there longer than you've been functioning, and bonded to a trine before that. It's a strong alibi.~ Prowl relaxed the rest of the way.

Jazz nodded and stroked his thumb over Prowl's jaw. ~The chatter about us is the same, too. Mecha who know anything about seneschals are certain you couldn't have taken me against my will.~

~That's nice that they're saying it, even if that's only a tiny fraction of the population," Prowl smiled at him and stroked his back. ~It is as good a lead-in as anything however. We need to make the final arrangements for how we will explain the twins after they emerge.~

~Do you think Engineer will still help us?~ Jazz asked.

~Yes. I am valuable to her.~ Prowl was sure of that. ~However, there are many mecha here that know you are the carrier and I am not. Some of them are far less trustworthy. I know we just settled down, but it would be safest for the twins if we moved. When we arrive in the next city, we can claim we carried one each. Unusual, but far less so.~

Jazz mused that over for a few moments. ~What about your job?~ he asked, more concerned with Prowl having work that filled his processors' needs than the idea of moving. ~You enjoy your work.~

~Yes. There are many jobs I will enjoy. I will get another,~ Prowl assured him. ~It is safer for the twins if we move on. Perhaps to Praxus?~

Jazz immediately started purring. ~And get to play with your doorwings again?~ he asked. ~Absolutely.~

Prowl couldn't help but laugh. ~Yes, you'll get to play with my doorwings again, and I'll get to play with yours. It will be nice to look like myself again, even if none of the details can match.~

~Let the twins separate here, and then move, or move, separate, and shift?~ Jazz asked. ~No one can see me carrying in Praxian form.~

~Tell Engineer I'm taking you on vacation to Iacon for the separation. Move to Iacon, arrange to seem to deactivate, shift, separation, shift and move to Praxus.~ Prowl edited. ~We'll be close to the best medical care if anything goes wrong, and Iacon is a beautiful city to visit.~

~She will be disappointed,~ Jazz commented. ~How are we for funds for that?~

~Very good,~ Prowl said firmly. ~My pay has been very good and we have saved up well. At least one of us will need to find work soon once we are in Praxus, but we should not be in the desperate shape we have been for prior moves.~

Jazz hummed. ~Well that would be nice,~ he said with a smile. ~I'm certainly not going to complain about not starting out in cheap hotels and dirty alleys. Though you have to admit there's a certain nostalgic charm to it...~

Prowl snorted. ~No thank you. I'll skip that nostalgia trip if you don't mind.~

Jazz grinned at him. ~We can be nostalgic in other ways anyway,~ he said, hand wandering down Prowl's side to touch his flank. ~Especially once that sire coding has calmed down.~

~Yes,~ Prowl purred, a soft moan escaping his vocalizer. ~I am _so_ looking forward to that. I miss the variety. I miss my endurance and our games.~

~Mmm, lover, I am so going to have my way with you as soon as I can,~ Jazz hummed, hooking his leg around Prowl's as Prowl's spike cover slid open reflexively. ~Just remember we're going to have a set of twins running around to deal with.~

~So long as I get your spike,~ Prowl moaned as his pressurized between them, ready to contribute to the frames and processors of his creations.

~Often and eagerly,~ Jazz promised as he rolled onto his back, bringing Prowl with him and pulling him into a deep kiss as he spread his legs apart, ready for everything Prowl had to give him.


	19. Iacon

Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.  
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .  
Archiveofourown-org/works/637909/chapters/1155977

Starcrossed 19: Iacon  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For once, getting caught up in the slow crawl of traffic wasn't actually annoying. The low speeds meant they could safely look around them as they drove and it gave them a long, leisurely roll into Iacon, the great capital of their planet and empire. It was a sight worth savoring, even for them, and they had long ago stopped actively caring about having luxuries like sightseeing in their lives.

It was hard to deny that the city was beautiful, though. Built to be a fortress for their history and culture, it was every bit imposing and impressive as its reputation. Appropriate to them, in a way, because this city was going to be the end of one life and the beginning of yet another. Prowl had said farewell to Engineer and Drift for what he knew was likely the last time and Jazz had accepted the well wishes of his friends and made plans to visit as soon as he got back for them all to meet his sparkling, who, if all went well, they should all believe deactivated with its creators in just another metacycle.

Until then, though, they were going to treat this as every bit the vacation that it was pretending to be, and once they'd relaxed and recovered from the road in their luxurious hotel room (an early separation gift from Engineer), purchased tickets for a ballet that Jazz was begging to see, and enjoyed their private hot oil pool, Prowl couldn't wait to go exploring in the city's renowned archives to kill the joors until the ballet started.

Jazz was less thrilled with the idea of archive exploring, but he had a datapad full of puzzles and games, not to mention the twins, to keep him entertained. Just how excited Prowl was made him sad, though, a reminder of just how much Prowl had given up to be with him.

~Carrier,~ Sideswipe prodded at him as Jazz watched his mate, reflecting on that and the life Prowl could have had without him. The twins had both apparently started paying attention again after resting previously. ~You feel sad.~

~I'm just thinking,~ Jazz said.

~About Sire?~ Sunstreaker prodded a bit more. ~Why would Sire make you sad?~

~He doesn't,~ Jazz said. ~He makes me very, very happy. But he gave up a life he loved for me, and I know he misses it. That makes me sad.~

~He loves you a lot then,~ Sideswipe said firmly.

~He'd better,~ Sunstreaker added.

~He does. And both of you,~ Jazz said, smiling as he trailed behind his mate, who was doing nothing to hide how much he was enjoying himself in the vast libraries. The twins both settled quietly after that, much more content now that Jazz's focus had shifted away from the melancholic.

When he started to get bored, they perked immediately back up, wanting to know why.

~Prowl and I are very different in some ways,~ Jazz explained. ~He enjoys this, and I can't say I do, much. I prefer to see and do.~

~Why does Sire like it, then?~ Sideswipe asked.

Jazz chuckled and pinged his mate. ::Love, our creation would like to know why you enjoy this, and I can't say I have an answer.::

::Core coding,:: Prowl chuckled. ::I am a manager by function. Information is the foundation of management. I crave _knowing_ and learning at a very base level.::

Jazz relayed the transmission through to the twins, who discussed it over their bond for a while, something Jazz could feel more than he could hear.

~What is your function?~ Sunstreaker finally asked.

Jazz had to think about that for a few kliks. He'd known with absolute certainty what his function had been, once, but he was less sure now. ~To entertain,~ he finally decided.

~Entertain Sire?~

Jazz couldn't keep his quiet laugh down, earning him a few glances in the otherwise silent area they were in. ~Yes.~

~What is _our_ function?~ the twins asked in unison.

~Something you will discover,~ Jazz answered with a bit of a shrug. ~You were created because we wanted you, and love you, not to fill a specialized role as the two of us were.~

~So we can be anything?~ Sideswipe nudged, curious at the idea.

~But how will we discover what we're to do?~ Sunstreaker asked.

That question left Jazz at a loss for an immediate answer. He and Prowl had both been bred, raised and trained for a specific purpose, with an intended role to play, and he could remember how much comfort he'd taken in knowing what that role was. He _knew_ how much comfort his mate still took in knowing what his function was, even if he had been stripped of his title and original role in life. There was no way that kind of craving for a function wasn't going to get passed down to the twins from their coding, two sets that had never been intended to create together.

~We will help you, Prowl and I,~ Jazz finally said. ~We will find what you most enjoy doing, and do everything in our power to help you find a part to play in our world doing it. Anything you can imagine. But you don't need to worry about that for a very long time.~

~We like to go fast!~ the pair replied in cheerful unison.

~Then you will go fast,~ Jazz promised them. ~But only as fast as is safe,~ he quickly modified.

~How can fun be not safe?~ Sideswipe asked curiously.

Jazz almost groaned. That question was so much better suited for Prowl, though he'd gotten more than a few lectures on the subject as a youngling. ~Because you can get hurt if you are not careful, especially if you are having fun and not paying attention to your own safety.~

He could feel the pair exchange looks, their twin bond alive with a debate.

~Nothing is going to hurt Sides.~ Sunstreaker growled. ~I won't let it.~

~Neither will we,~ Jazz said. ~We won't let anything hurt either of you.~

The twins settled down for another rest, still easily tired by talking, leaving Jazz to his games and watching his mate's joy fondly until it was time to get detailed for the ballet. Though openly reluctant to leave, Prowl guided them to the entrance before Jazz's alarm went off that it was time to leave, though it was by less than a klik.

"We'll come back," Jazz promised his mate, linking their arms together as they walked. "Maybe even our creation will enjoy going with you, and you can show him everything."

"I can hope," Prowl smiled, more warmed by the thought, as slim as the possibility was, than he dared admit. It would hurt too much when neither did, and he was sure neither would. Not between Jazz and Vortex's influence. "It would be nice to have a thinker for a creation."

Jazz nuzzled him, sensing the unspoken. "When you carry, I'm sure we will have a thinker." He shifted, lowered his arm to grab Prowl's hand, and pulled him to a stop, bringing their helms together. "You _will_ carry."

"Yes, I will," Prowl replied far more firmly than he felt. He knew the odds. He knew the timetable. He knew just how low the probability really was that they'd still be together, much less able to bond and kindle by the time it was over. He kept all of that carefully away from his lover. Jazz did not need to know any of it. "When this one is mature, I will carry our next."

Jazz gave him an odd look as they continued walking, but didn't say anything until they had gotten back to the hotel, and then they both carefully kept to the lighter, casual conversation of the evening's plans, and Jazz's excitement about the ballet quickly made him forget everything else. The light talk continued through their detailing, though it was nothing like what a noble would call detailing, and the pleasant drive to the theater where the performance was.

"Hey! Look at that," Jazz said as they drove past a vid-sign advertising a performance in a smaller theater, showing slender mecha painted in bright, provocative colors. Prowl gave a noncommittal hum in response.

When they reached the theater, Prowl produced the tickets and they were let in, Prowl slipping a hand silently onto Jazz's back, a statement of his ownership of this carrier, a warning for others to stay away that here was enough to keep interest in Jazz to a few looks that lasted a bit too long, but not even a verbal approach.

"I haven't been to one of these in so long," Jazz said, practically quivering with excitement as they sat down. Decent seats in the center of the house, nothing extravagant but still with a good view.

"I hope you enjoy it as much as you recall," Prowl's voice was rich with genuine warmth as they settled side by side, the armrest between them lifted so Jazz could lean into his mate.

"I'm sure I will," Jazz said, relaxing happily.

Less than a groon in, though, Jazz was not quite as confident. The performers were elegant, to be sure, and their movements graceful, the dance beautiful, but... Jazz frowned. There was no _life_ in this. It was perfect, there was no suffering or pain or struggle. All it reminded him of was a life he'd lived and had torn from him, mecha who had never known hardship.

And, more than that, it was _boring_. It was the visual equivalent of listening to Duet drone, only there were dozens of them.

::Sharp...:: he sighed. ::I...think I'm bored.::

::Can you sit through the first quarter, until an intermission?:: Prowl asked quietly. He still had enough social protocols to call on to know, without question, that it was not acceptable to get up in the middle of a scene.

Jazz groaned to himself while nodding. He thought about pointing out that they were going to be deactivated in a few orns and no one would be remembering them for their social skills, but he already felt bad for not enjoying the ballet that Prowl had brought him to. ::I'm sorry...I used to love this, I thought I still would.::

::It shows how much you've changed in less than two vorns,:: Prowl said gently. ::You can take a nap instead of watching. Still rude, but no one will grumble.::

::Nah, I can make it. Plenty of them are very attractive, anyway,:: Jazz said with a smile. ::I'll just focus on that instead.::

::Good,:: Prowl leaned over and kissed his cheek before settling in to finish watching the first quarter of the ballet.

The _nanoklik_ the first quarter ended, Jazz was on his pedes, practically dragging Prowl with him. ::Come on, we might still be able to catch that other show I saw on the way in!::

::You are insufferable,:: Prowl actually laughed, willingly being dragged along. ::The current show does have a few tickets let, though they are not good seats and we will have to wait until intermission to go in.::

Jazz grabbed him in a spinning kiss the moment they were outside, grinning hugely. "You are wonderful, did you know that?" he asked.

"It's coding to indulge one's carrier," Prowl chuckled, his field expressing just how little he needed that excuse. "I worked hard to get you. I'll work hard to keep you."

"Not gonna have to work hard to keep me, lover," Jazz purred. "Just you _try_ to lose me."

Prowl smiled at him and they transformed together to make the short drive to the much smaller theater. It was less glamorous than the one they'd just been in, and frequented by a lower income bracket, but still clean and respectable, run and owned by mecha who cared about their work.

As soon as intermission ended they were allowed in and found their seats and settled in, talking quietly while they waited.

Once the show began again, Jazz's optics lit brightly and he knew he'd made the right decision. These mecha were more than dancers, they were acrobats, there was feeling and passion and _energy_ in everything they did. This was a performance Jazz would never have been allowed to see as a mechling, as provocative and sensual as it was. It felt so much more _real_, with the abstract colors, themes, and movements that all spoke to the chaos of life.

Jazz was _enthralled._

Prowl was watching, more bewildered than enjoying, but the delight radiating off Jazz was more than enough to make him smile and enjoy the show. It felt impossibly good to make Jazz that happy, and he reveled in it.

::Look at them!:: Jazz said, watching one of the performers seem to dance up a sheer metal wall with nothing to hold onto while two others leapt to the top on a series of nothing more than thin cables, pulled taut. ::What I wouldn't give to move like that,:: he said.

Prowl paused to consider the dancers. ::You could, with practice and some minor upgrades.::

Jazz looked down at himself. ::And a decent frame,:: he said. ::Maybe once I have my frame back, if I can find anyone to teach me that.:: The performer who had seemingly walked straight up the wall flipped from his pedes to his hands, and then held so still he could have been a statue while the other two froze in a pose around him.

On the stage, three of the others had pulled energon blades and were moving in a graceful dance-or what would have been, if it was being performed any slower. The blades were moving so quickly they registered as smears across their optic sensors. ::A _lot_ of practice,:: Jazz said, awed.

::Yes, a lot of practice,:: Prowl agreed. ::This level of performance likely takes decades, if not centuries to attain, and constant practice to maintain. It requires great dedication..::

Jazz hummed thoughtfully. ::A goal, then. I'm sure that kind of skill will come in very useful,:: he said, voice dark.

::Knowing how to move one's frame quickly and easily is always useful,:: Prowl agreed just as seriously. ::We are headed to Praxus next. Have you thought about what frame to have?::

::Praxian?:: Jazz said with a shrug. ::There are a couple designs I've found that I like, haven't picked one yet. Do you think I'll still look like I've just gone through a separation?::

::No, we'll wait long enough that we can pass off that we've each carried one,:: Prowl nuzzled him affectionately. ::Besides, it's better if we allow the mini factory inside you to be broken down naturally.::

Jazz nodded. ::I don't even really want to shift at this point. I'd feel better if Mucit was close by,:: he sighed. ::Just in case. I hadn't thought about what a shift might do to them.::

::Mucit and Wheeljack are certain it will be fine,:: Prowl nuzzled him. ::I asked extensive questions about shifting while carrying.::

Jazz smiled and hummed. ::Is there anything you don't think of?:: he asked, undertones of love, gratitude, and relief beneath the glyphs.

::Only when I do not have enough information to predict possible needs,:: Prowl teased in reply.

Jazz pulsed affection in his field and leaned against his lover, his frame warm and vibrating with the contented purring of his engines and the work being done on the protoforms. He could feel the twins rousing with interest at the surges of delight they were feeling as the performers executed perfect, spark-stopping moves, and shifted his focus forward for them to experience the show with him.

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Jazz tossed his helm back and keened, back arching away from the berth, frame rigid with tension and the ties around his wrists pulled taut as Prowl moved over him, the mix of having his lover's spike buried in him and having the interfacing hardline connected making every part of him _hum_ with ecstasy.

~_Prowl!_~ he cried while his vocalizer moaned senselessly. ~Close, _so_ close, lover please, don't stop!~

"Never," Prowl moaned the promise he meant with all his spark, his voice rolling over his lover in an intentional play to Jazz's love of his voice. "Your pleasure is everything. So addictive."

"_Nn_-" The answering groan cut off sharply as Jazz's vocalizer shorted in a wash of static. He'd held out as long as he could, wanting to feel every surge of energy and transfluid that Prowl could give him as nothing short of bliss, and even though this wasn't going to be his first overload of the evening, it was definitely going to be the most intense once it hit. ~Just a little-a little-right, _oh_, there, right there right _there!_~ he cried as his hips bucked up onto Prowl's spike in a sudden counter-rhythm, the jolt and subsequent energy feedback rebooting his vocalizer in time for him to _scream_ as he thrashed, caught in the grip of a cascading energy overload while his valve clenched down in its own surge of ecstasy.

Prowl howled with him, pumping nanite-rich transfluid deep into his lover in an overload that was as much relief to stop holding back as it was ecstasy. Time, reality blanked out for them as the energy tore through their frames, only finally expending itself and allowing their frames to sink to the luxurious berth in a sated exhaustion.

"Love you," Prowl mumbled, only barely coherent. ~Let loose?~

Jazz twitched his wrists weakly, testing against the bindings, then nodded, no more coherent than Prowl was. ~Ah, love you, Prowl, lover, lover, Prowler,~ he murmured, combining the two glyphs together, then gave a silly, dazed half-grin. ~Prowler...I like that. Prowler,~ he purred as Prowl reached up to fumble at the ties with fingers that were still trembling as bad as his own.

~That is not my designation, Jazz,~ Prowl replied, though here across the hardline it was impossible for him to hide that he didn't really mind. His hand fell away once the binding was loose, soon followed by his frame sliding to the side to put less pressure and heat on Jazz's. ~Just a couple more decaorn and they'll be running on their own,~ he purred, stroking Jazz's abdominal armor.

Jazz hummed, covering Prowl's hand with his own. ~I can't wait to really meet them,~ he said, turning his head to look at his lover. ~Any changes now that you've seen the city? Same location that we chose earlier?~ he asked, switching over to their faked deactivation.

~I've found a better place, but the basics are the same,~ Prowl said as he settled against his sparkling-heavy mate. ~We were driving towards a small racetrack, one the concierge recommended for a good time to watch, but not too exciting for you and a hyper-vigilant first time sire.~ He chuckled at that description of himself. ~A section of the roadway collapsed under us, sending us falling several levels to our destruction. Enough to make the news, but not enough to cause much more than a basic investigation. A tragic accident, but nothing more.~

Jazz nodded and let his optics go offline as he relaxed fully. He wasn't going to be much use helping in the set-up, his frame as burdened as it was working on the creation of two protoforms (not to mention what would be involved in convincing Prowl to let him help in anything that carried any kind of risk, such as this did). ~When?~

~I've found the frames and made the modifications needed,~ Prowl murmured, intentionally shielding Jazz from exactly how he'd managed it. ~I'd like to do this in two orns. I'll miss this luxury after we change.~

~It isn't too late to back out,~ Jazz said. ~I know you liked Engineer's employ, she can still help us, even if it would be tricky.~

~Too many mecha know that if we have two sparklings, you must have been carrying twins,~ Prowl sighed, stroking Jazz's frame gently. ~Far too many we can not trust. The odds it will go badly are simply too high.~

Jazz nodded, optics flickering back on for him to stare at the ceiling. ~You keep giving up things you love because of me,~ he whispered. ~I still don't understand why.~

~I love you,~ Prowl responded simply.

Jazz turned to look at him and managed a smile. ~That's the part I don't understand,~ he said, only half joking, and the smile faded as his hand slid down to his abdomen. ~Not just because...I had ready creation potential?~

~You are a noble, Jazz. I am a commoner. It was always to be my place as your berthwarmer, not the other way around. If I was very, very lucky, you might just agree to allow me to carry your creation, though you could never admit it was yours.~ Prowl's reminder of the world they'd come from was gentle but pointed.

Jazz made a soft, thoughtful sound. ~That all changed the moment we stepped through those gates,~ he said. ~Sooner if you count what no one knew. You betrayed your House and I my family and Intended the moment we kissed.~ His hand came up to stroke Prowl's helm. ~I want you to carry my creation, and I want to tell the entire world, and I want to carry yours.~

~You are carrying mine,~ Prowl murmured, thoughts full of how much he loved the twins he had contributed so much material to. ~Yes, and you left behind all that you had been created to be when you walked away as well. Remember that.~

Jazz's optics flickered in momentary surprise, then gratitude surged over the hardline. ~I so love you,~ he said, sighing in relaxation as his spark settled, the words having been exactly what he'd needed to be reminded of.

~Carrier?~ Sideswipe nudged along with his twin, having been silent until now, roused long ago by the intense emotions Jazz had been feeling and now feeling it was okay to speak. ~You were sad again. Sire helped you?~

~I hope so,~ Prowl cooed at them. ~Your carrier sometimes forgets his worth and needs to be reminded that I love him as more than a carrier.~

~Carrier knows that you love him,~ Sunstreaker said firmly. ~He told us so.~

Jazz smiled at Prowl. ~Your sire has an incredible, amazing spark, and sometimes I wonder what I ever did to deserve him,~ he explained as best he could.

~So do you,~ Sideswipe said, flaring warmly. ~We can feel so.~

~Listen to our sparklings,~ Prowl chuckled softly as he settled for some recharge. ~All three of us agree that you have an amazing spark.~

Jazz purred. ~You deserve nothing less,~ he said, pressing as close to his mate as he could. ~Everything I am is for you.~

~You are always so warm and bright after moving with Sire,~ Sideswipe hummed, curling his awareness with Jazz's spark.

~Can't wait to move,~ Sunstreaker rumbled.

Jazz chuckled, feeling his fatigued mate slip off into recharge over the hardline. ~I am, and you will,~ he answered. ~I must rest now. I love you both.~

Their echoing agreement was the last thing Jazz registered before his processors slipped offline, surrounded by his lover's field and feeling his peripheral systems over the deep intimacy of the interfacing hardline.

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::The next time you tick off dispatch, I am going to disavow you as my partner,:: an Iacon enforcer grumbled to his partner as they wove their way down to where reports of a roadway collapse had originated.

::What!:: Chaser protested indignantly. ::This isn't that bad...it might even be a real report for once,:: he added brightly. ::You never...whoa.:: He stopped as they came around a corner that give them a view of the collapsed section of road and the drop that it would have led to.

"If anybody was on that section when it went down, this isn't going to be much of an investigation," Tapper murmured as he transformed and walked to the edge to study the collapse.

Chaser transformed behind him, very uneasy with how close his partner was getting to the wreckage. "Would you _please_ wait until an Aerial unit gets here to look at the structure from below?" he said, peering down over the side from where he was. "Slag, I see frames in that mess, we have to get down there."

Tapper nodded and stood to join his partner at the side of the road to look down. "At least the scavengers don't seem to have done too much damage yet." He stepped away and transformed. "Let's go."

Chaser revved his engines as he followed down the complicated path of switchturns that led them down to where the debris had all settled, using the old maintenance framework that didn't look like it had been driven on in metacycles, or updated in vorns. Tapper transformed in front of him and Chaser stood with a flip to the ground, both of them running over to the crushed piles that were very obviously deactivated frames, even from a distance, each of them kneeling in front of one.

"Yeah, this one's gone, chamber's in pieces," Chaser said.

"Oh Primus," Tapper breathed a small prayer. "Rest in the Well, little one." He looked over at his partner. "Carrier, final stage."

"Ah, slag," Chaser said, then cringed from the disapproving look Tapper shot him and walked over, bowing his head and murmuring another prayer for the lost sparkling. Finished, he lowered his hand and looked up, peering at the roadway. "Intentional?"

"Always possible, but unlikely," Tapper sighed as he plugged into the carrier to run an ID scan. "There have been complaints about that spot for vorns. Carrier is Strata. Sparkling is Tango." He pinged the datanet for them. "Listed as visiting from Simfur for the separation. Go see if that one's Sharp from Simfur. The sire is supposed to be with them."

"Man, nothing exciting ever happens on our shifts," Chaser said, kneeling down in front of the other and confirming his partner's guess. "Yeah, Sharp from Simfur. Damn." He looked at the two frames, then back up at the collapsed section of roadway. "What were they doing way out here? Says they were staying at Iacon Heights, that's nowhere near here."

"Probably got lost," Tapper x-vented as he stood and called the data in. "Doesn't matter how good the datanet is, you get a few every vorn that end up where they don't belong."

Chaser rumbled with displeasure as he looked at the carrier. "We should go to the hotel and talk with the staff anyway," he said. "Boss'll stripe us to bolts if we leave any loose ends with a carrier involved."

"_I'll_ strip you to bolts if that happens," Tapper pointed out firmly. "We wait for the M.E. and frame pickup. If something is hinky, the last thing we need is evidence disappearing in what is legally our custody."

"Pain in the aft," Chaser grumbled. "A dozen reports to fill out for bad road maintenance." He looked the pair over once more, back up at the fall they'd taken, winced, and settled in to wait.

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"Why doesn't anyone _tell_ you about this part?" Jazz complained from where he was sitting by the window of the small hotel room, helm resting against the mostly-opaque material as he looked outside, pressed up against the cooler material as much as possible. His frame felt like it was going to start melting through on itself. "All those classes on the carrying process and not one of them mentioned how _hot_ it is."

"Because it was assumed that you would be in a place where coolant and temperature control would be readily available, and many servants to see to your every need," Prowl answered smoothly as he stretched his new frame, a heavy, low-flying design. "You'll remain that hot until the construction chambers have been completely disassembled and absorbed."

Jazz sighed, slumped, and watched his beautiful mate jealously. His own frame was closer to what the original rebuilds had looked like, boxy and utilitarian, with plenty of wide surface area for the construction chambers to grow into. They were taking absolutely no chances with the twins, and as such, Jazz's frame was about as large as the sorcelling tech would permit. For someone who had delighted in his original slender frame and how he'd been able to move it to attract Prowl's attention with natural, easy grace, the cumbersome boxyness was aggravating. "Can't believe you still enjoy 'facing me like this," he grumbled, more to have something to complain about to suit his mood than actual disbelief.

Prowl chuckled and walked over to rub his hands along Jazz's back. "Just be grateful that we have the credits to keep you in coolant and a soft berth." He kissed his lover's neck. "It could be much worse."

Jazz hummed and arched against the cooler metal of Prowl's hands. "It could be," he admitted, optics unfocusing for a moment as he imagined the dozens of ways of just _how_ it could be worse. He shuddered, shook himself, and focused back on his mate's touches, groaning as his fingers worked their way lower on his back and slipped under the loosened plating to stroke beneath. "Thank you," he murmured. "I think I'm just nervous."

"Understandably so," Prowl said softly as he continued to relax his mate, getting heavy armor plating to loosen and vent heat. "I remember my first carry. It wasn't that long ago. It's natural to be nervous."

"Does it hurt?" Jazz asked, optics dimming in contentment. "I think that's the kind of detail they would leave out."

"If all goes well, it does not hurt, though it is very unsettling and uncomfortable," Prowl told him. "Would you like to view my memories of it?"

"You wouldn't mind me seeing those?" Jazz asked, well aware that there were parts of his lover's past he did not enjoy reliving, unsure if the memories of the creations he'd never known were part of that. "I don't think anything could be worse than... But I'd feel better knowing what it will be like. I know what's going to _happen_ but that doesn't really help."

"I know," Prow kissed him lightly. "The entire carrying process asks our frames and processors to do things that are just not natural. I will share." He nudged Jazz over to the berth where they could enjoy the contact and plugged in. ~You have a small advantage in knowing their designations and sharing the bond, but it should be similar enough to give you a good sense of what to expect.~

Jazz nodded and looked where Prowl showed him to, quickly skimming the datafile attached to this segment of memory and realizing it was Prowl's first separation. The experience of an uncomfortable shifting and the alarm as part of his frame simply _moved_ and lifted away without being commanded to do so came across strongly, but overall, the majority of the details were of an average memory file, nothing intended for later viewing. Prowl hadn't anticipated needing to-or, more likely, Jazz decided, _wanting_ to-look back on this event. His first sight of Jazz in his mechling upgrades had been in stunningly high resolution compared to this.

The physical sensations that Prowl remembered felt a little like shifting his frame, uncomfortable stretching and plating that felt disturbingly out of place, with the vulnerability of being exposed in a very dangerous way, but this experience lasted much longer. ~What was it like...not talking to them?~ Jazz asked quietly as he watched. ~How were you able to keep the bond shut off like that?~

~It was normal,~ Prowl wasn't sure what else to say. ~I knew before I even met the sires that I would not raise them, that forming emotional ties would cause more harm to both of us than good. The block is part software and part simple desire not to acknowledge it. A newspark goes quiet fairly quickly if you do not respond to it.~

Jazz's spark ached at the thought of not answering to their twins and he nuzzled his mate, as much as he knew Prowl had accepted and come to terms with his situation long ago. He was glad the twins were both recharging deeply, they became very insistent whenever they felt Jazz's mood shifting towards the melancholy like it was now. Even though Jazz couldn't remember any specifics or details about being carried, there was a warmth there and a feeling of connection that he had treasured as a mechling, long after the carrier bond had faded on its own. ~I can't wait to meet our twins,~ he said when the memory cut. ~Thank you, that helped, I don't need to see the others.~

~All right,~ Prowl stroked Jazz's boxy abdominal plating with genuine affection. ~I'm looking forward to finally holding them.~

~I'm looking forward to them carrying their own weight around,~ Jazz said, a gentle tease at himself for how irritable he'd been recently. ~Though I suppose holding them will be nice, as well.~

~You're just looking forward to having that optic-catching shape of yours again,~ Prowl teased him with a kiss while his hand slid lower. ~Feel up to a little pleasure to help settle in this frame?~

~Mmm, yes, I think that would greatly increase my satisfaction with this frame,~ Jazz purred in response. ~And what can I say?~ he added with a huge grin. ~I'm a gorgeous mech and you know it.~

~You know it too,~ Prowl laughed as he stroked Jazz's valve cover. ~You've always knows just how optic catching you are.~

~Yes I have,~ Jazz agreed cheerfully, humming into the touch and sliding the cover away. ~Mm, any chance of a coolant rub when you're done?~

~I'd be happy to,~ Prowl purred as he scooted down to settle between his lover's legs and licked at the fluffed out platelets already glistening with lubricant. ~And now that construction is almost finished, I can even stand to play around a little. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to feeling you pump liquid heat into me again.~

~I'm going to make your gyros spin,~ Jazz moaned, lifting his hips into Prowl's mouth, his frame aching for his mate's transfluid. ~I can't wait to really enjoy spiking you again. And swallowing your spike and tasting your valve and bending you over and..._ohh_.~ He shivered, his fingers gripping Prowl's helm.

~And dancing for me, rousing me until I can't take it any more and plead for you to finish so you can spread my legs and take me,~ Prowl panted across the hardline, lapping at his lover until Jazz was shivering and moaning shamelessly above him. It felt good just to have this much variance, even though he couldn't even hold back enough to fully enjoy Jazz's first overload before driving his spike deep into that pulsing valve and thrusting until he roared, the pleasure bouncing back and forth across the hardline in a blissful maelstrom of movement and energy that only broke when Prowl's reserves dipped too low and forced him to remain still after his final overload.

The purring, sated carrier beneath him nuzzled him as he tucked his face against the exposed neck. "Coolant rub after we recharge," he murmured, snuggling up against him as they both slipped offline.

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"Taris," Jazz looked up at his aerial-framed mate from where he was lounging, watching Iacon pass by below and around him at the window seat. "It's time."

Prowl both tensed and relaxed, relieved that the wait was finally over. Without a sound he stood and helped Jazz to his pedes, then to the berth. They were going to leave a horrible mess for the cleaning drones, but neither cared. These names and frames would be dead within an orn if all went well.

"Hardline," Prowl said firmly when he had Jazz on his back. "I've done this before."

Jazz nodded, gripping Prowl's hand as he x-vented carefully and tried to steady himself and his rapidly pulsing spark, letting the dataport spiral open for his lover.

"And now that it's happening, suddenly less calm," he said with a short, nervous laugh, then made a face as his plating shifted without his direction. "Nn, weird."

~Yes, it is,~ Prowl agreed once he was plugged in. He smoothly guided Jazz to watch the most important protocols and relevant data streams on his systems as well as of the sparklings. ~The most dangerous point for all involved is the first klik as they separate the final cable. That is when their systems must sustain them, and your systems must recalibrate very quickly to the lower drain. If anything will go terribly wrong, that is when it is most likely.~

~Okay,~ Jazz said, nodding, then again, steadier, ~Okay.~ He watched the data streams that were scrolling by almost too quickly to read, telling him of all the rapid changes that were being made to the internal structure of his frame. ~Are you ready, little ones?~

~Get to _move!_~ Sunstreaker said, the connection swelling with excitement.

~And go fast!~ his twin said, and Jazz grimaced in a way that looked like the sparkling had just stretched out a bit too far.

~Soon, just hang on,~ Jazz said, gripping Prowl almost painfully tight.

~Relax, little ones,~ Prowl focused on the restless pair. ~It will be easier if you wait until everything is ready to release you.~

They settled, only slightly, and more than a little grudgingly, but at least they were holding still. ~Thank you,~ Prowl said to them as his mate's ventilations sped up and armor shifted and clicked, preparing to open once Jazz's frame had released the twins from the multitude of connections keeping them wired in with his systems. He could already see the plating start to shift and loosen over Jazz's abdomen.

~Prowl!~ Jazz said, tensing predictably as one of the larger plates shifted, reaching out over the hardline.

~It's gong well,~ Prowl assured him. ~All your abdominal armor will shift aside, moving in all directions to clear the chambers as quickly as possible. You are doing well, as are the twins.~

~Right, okay, normal, good,~ Jazz said, and managed to settle back on the berth as Prowl soothed him over the hardline, keeping a close watch on all three systems. Even as quickly as everything was going, it still seemed an intolerably long wait before everything was really set to begin and changes started happening more quickly.

By that point, Jazz was panting from the heat and strain. The soft _snkt_ of multiple wires and connections releasing was barely audible over the whirring of his cooling systems that were drawing in external air at a rate that was already beginning to affect the overall temperature of the small room, and Prowl could only hope at this point that it stayed low enough for none of them to overheat. By rights, Jazz's first separation should have been in a room with an open balcony, surrounded by his family, his bonded, at least one specialist medic with assistants, the House medic, and servants to bring anything he could want. Instead, he was in a small, featureless hotel room on a berth with thinner padding than they'd slept on in metacycles.

~You know I would rather be here,~ Jazz panted, looking at his lover with bright optics, having caught most of that line of thought.

~I know,~ Prowl swirled his love and devotion across the connection. ~It does not mean I cannot want better for you, them, _us_.~

Movement inside Jazz's armor brought Prowl's full focus to the twins and three thin, protoform arms squirming, pushing and pulling to help their owners get out first.

~Sideswipe, Sunstreaker. Settle.~ Prowl ordered sharply. ~You'll damage your carrier.~

~We're sorry,~ Sideswipe said quickly as they both froze, and Sunstreaker's hardline _throbbed_ with impatience.

Jazz huffed a short laugh. ~Oh, if either of them is anything like I was as a sparkling, this is going to be fun.~ He made an odd, strangled sound that was quickly followed by the creak of plating rapidly rearranging itself, drawing back fully in a matter of nanokliks to show the sparklings' creation chamber.

~_Me first!_~ the twins cried in unison, and both of them struggled up, reaching and gripping onto whatever they could find and pulling.

~Ow-_ow!_~ Jazz cried, yelping and wincing, and the alarm that there was any kind of pain came immediately after.

~Calm,~ Prowl focused that order on Jazz even as he reached into Jazz's abdomen and forcefully stopped one of the twins from crawling forward. ~One at a time,~ he hissed at the pair. ~There is only room for one at a time.~

~But!~ came the protest, simultaneous with the other twin's, ~Yes!~ as the protoform that wasn't being forcefully restrained squirmed upwards, the final cables connecting him to Jazz's systems snapping as he drew himself up and out.

"Sideswipe," Jazz said, smiling as the chirping, clicking, completely unarmored sparkling protoform crawled up to nuzzle against his neck. Sideswipe settled, curled inside his carrier's cradling arm.

~_Me!_~ Sunstreaker demanded, wriggling under Prowl's hand.

~Yes, you,~ Prowl smiled and helped the squirming, oil and lubricant covered protoform, utterly identical to his brother, out of the creation chamber and tucked him in Jazz's other arm. "Can you read your fuel level?"

The protoforms looked up at him, then at each other, quickly conferring with each other before they looked back at Prowl and chirped in affirmative. Jazz sagged in relief, then shivered suddenly as his systems were faced with a dramatic fuel redirection without the twin protoform construction to sustain.

"Redirecting," Jazz said, voice tight. "But steady." His armor started closing back up again, the movements smoothed by the lubricant and oil spilled from the open construction chambers.

~Good,~ Prowl stroked Jazz's helm. ~Recharge, my love. I'll watch your systems and see the twins are fed.~

~But...~ Jazz whispered, looking at the pair of identical faces that was peering up at him, each one of them looking so impossibly tiny in his hands. But he was drained and his systems were demanding immediate recharge in order to engage the deeper self-repair routines needed to help reconstruct his frame. "Love you, all three of you," he murmured, before his optics flickered off and his systems powered down.

Prowl drew a deep breath of too-hot air, judged it acceptable and turned his focus to monitoring his mate while the climate control for the room did its work.

"So, my little ones," he reached over to caress each of their tiny heads, not yet covered by a helm, or any protection at all. "Try to initialize your vocalizer so you can communicate more easily."

The basic, experimental chirping continued for another klik or so as the twins debated and confirmed the correct protocols to execute, and with a series of testing whistles and clicks at each other, brought their vocalizers online.

"Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said, and his field flared with pleasure at the correctly-pronounced glyph, even if it was a little staticky.

"Sunstreaker," his twin said, sounding much the same, before they both looked up at Prowl. "Sire!" the exclaimed proudly.

"Yes," he smiled warmly at the pair. "What are your fuel levels?"

"They are...sixty," Sideswipe said slowly, getting a feel for speaking. He crawled over to his twin on the side of the berth Prowl was on and reached out, touching his plating curiously. Sunstreaker nuzzled him, moving his hand over Sideswipe's outstretched arm, optics following and focusing as the vision systems executed their own initializing tests.

Prowl nodded, watching them explore, but content to let them so long as they weren't in danger. Jazz's systems were repairing nicely, just as he'd expected given the quality of the noble's protoform.

After a few kliks he pulled two small cubes from his subspace. "It is time to fuel."

They turned their faces up, regarding the cubes. "Like you and carrier do," Sideswipe said, while Sunstreaker held his hands out.

"Yes," Prowl smiled warmly in approval and handed each a cube, making sure it was stable in their grip before letting go. "Drink slowly, and watch your levels. You don't want to go above 90% yet."

They obeyed without question or hesitation, survival programming dictating that Sire was to be obeyed guiding them to tip their heads back in order to drink. They stayed silent and still while they focused on their readings, and stopped at the same time, cubes most of the way gone, and held their arms out, handing them back.

"Very good," Prowl's engine purred in approval while his field and voice carried the same. He put the cubes away. "Now it would be best to recharge and allow your systems to settle." He reached out and gently stroked each of their bare heads. "You are both so perfect. You did well this orn."

Sideswipe beamed at him. "Will you recharge with us?" he asked.

"I need to maintain a watch on your carrier's systems," Prowl said gently as he moved to bring a chair over. "I'll be right here where you can teek my field."

"All right," Sunstreaker said as he looked down at himself before Sideswipe tugged his hand, pulling him along up towards Jazz's collar. "Will we always be so slimy?" he asked dubiously.

"No," Prowl chuckled gently. "I'll clean you up when you are recharging."

"Good," Sunstreaker said firmly before giving in to his twins' insistent prodding and curling up with him, giving a tiny, pleased rumble at the warmth and familiarity of Jazz's armor and Sideswipe's proximity.

"It is very nice to move," Sideswipe said quietly, happily. "We will go fast later."

"Yes," Sunstreaker agreed, then their optics powered down in unison and they were soon in their own deep recharge, pressed close together and cuddled into Jazz's frame.

Prowl watched the pair and Jazz recharge peacefully for several long kliks before reaching into his subspace for several cloths. It wasn't a washrack, but he could at least get the worst of it off all three of them before they booted up again.


	20. Praxus

Okay, so everybody should know the drill by now. Chapters with explicit content aren't really posted here. Just up to when the smut gets going.  
If you want to read the story, it's over on Ao3. Replace the - with .  
Archiveofourown-org/works/637909/chapters/1155977

Starcrossed 20: Praxus  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You certainly look different," said the sleek Praxian femme who was looking Prowl up and down. "Though the last time I actually saw you, you looked more like them," she pointed at the sparklings in their arms.

They were here for the records they'd need to pass off as Praxian citizens who had each carried one of the twins, who were not to even be officialy related if everything worked out correctly. This favor was a risky one for Prowl, tracking down a very old friend of his carrier's who he knew worked in medical records to help him officiate everything, and they were trusting that she cared enough about her long-deactivated friend's creation to help them, because she owed Prowl nothing and he had nothing to offer her compared to the risk she was taking.

"I just knew it all had to be nonsense when I heard about it," Delta was continuing. "There was no way a seneschal from your carrier's line could have acted so outrageously. Top quality." She smiled faintly, the first expression she'd shown since they'd gotten here. "I was very fond of your carrier, I was saddened to hear what happened. It is a pity there was not suitable work to be found to delay that end."

"Yes, though I understood his choice well," Prowl inclined his helm. "I miss them both. You wished to meet our sparklings before agreeing to filing. This is Sunstreaker, his brother is Sideswipe."

Delta nodded in affirmative as Jazz stepped forward, shifting her focus over to the twins who looked back at her with bright, wide optics. "Incredible," she said, looking between the two. "It is really a shame your carry was not studied, they are remarkable. You must be very proud."

"We are," Jazz said, smiling. He was in Praxian form as well, having regained his shape without incident or complication after the separation.

"They are amazing," Prowl said with all the sappy, delirious pride of a new creator. He may have carried three new lives, but he'd never been a _creator_ before, and he was loving it. "Very smart, already very active and fearless."

"They would be smart," Delta said, purring deeply in her chassis as she held her arms out. "May I?" she asked, directing her question at Sideswipe, who nodded agreeably, but Sunstreaker immediately growled at her. She raised a single optic ridge at him, completely unintimidated.

"Sunstreaker," Jazz murmured, smiling faintly. "She won't drop him. Go ahead, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe chirped cheerfully as he climbed over into Delta's arms and crawled upward, touching her face curiously. "We have never seen a femme," he said. "Why are you femme and carrier and sire are mech?"

"Femme is a frametype, like a Seeker, Aerial, convoy or tank. We are built lighter than a mech, but faster and more agile," she smiled at the curious sparkling she was half holding and half being clung to. He was less than half a decaorn old in her estimation, and not only of fine construction as suited his carrier, but in fine shape, a testament to how well cared for his carrier had been and how well cared for he had been since emerging. It warmed her to know that despite having to hide and the separation occurring in a small hotel room, Prowl had taken such exceptional care of his charges.

"Oh," Sideswipe said, peering at her mouth as it moved. He squirmed, looked back at his twin who was watching with intense focus, then held his arms back out towards Jazz. Delta let him crawl back to his carrier, then turned sharply towards her desk, gesturing with her hand for Prowl to follow.

"Here are the records I've filled out for you," she said, lifting two datapads. "Their information goes in your files, as their carriers and because of their age. These are your copies, I will file the originals with the state later this orn."

"Thank you," Prowl said as he skimmed them, Sunstreaker following with bright optics, even if he didn't understand the bulk of what he was trying to read. Prowl didn't read every line out of lack of trust, but to lock in his processors all the details.

Officially, Sideswipe was three orns older than Sunstreaker, and had been carried by Saxo, while Sunstreaker was Pantera's creation. They'd both emerged here at the main hospital, been deemed healthy, and released. Nothing unusual, nothing to draw attention. Both were citizens of Praxus now, and it meant that Jazz, as Sideswipe's carrier and Pantera's mate, had a very good claim at the fast track for citizenship. Pantera didn't need the help, having emerged in Praxus himself.

It was only in reading the details and the thoughts they lead to that Prowl realized that he had every intention of staying in Praxus if he could. It was strange to think of a city he'd never lived in as home, but it resonated true. He was home, and he was not going to let that monster take it from him or his family.

"Everything matches up with the other records I have," he said gratefully before handing Jazz Sideswipe's file. "How can I thank you?"

Delta smiled at him as Jazz read, watching the way Sideswipe was trying to reach for the datapad that was nearly as big as he was. "I'm repaying an old debt to your carrier," she said, shrugging. "Though if you ever feel the need, I would not say no to a purge and organization of my records systems," she added with a grimace, glancing over her shoulder at the uneven stacks of datapads that may or may not have been hiding furniture beneath them.

"Sideswipe," Jazz admonished quietly as the sparkling covered his view of the screen completely, then gave Prowl a pleading look as he shifted his creation to one arm and held him out towards him. Prowl smoothly and happily took him, shifting a bit so the twins could be in contact with each other.

"I would enjoy that," Prowl actually purred a bit, his doorwings perking up at the prospect of putting the system to rights. "Though it would have to be done around my search for work. Keeping these three comfortable and well-fed must remain my priority."

Delta nodded understandingly and gave a thoughtful hum. "Who would have guessed that after being bred as a carrier you would make such a devoted sire," she mused. "My congratulations on the beautiful pair of sparklings, to both of you, and don't worry, this mess isn't going anywhere," she shook her head at herself.

"I'll come by when I can to work on it," Prowl promised, his doorwings fluttering happily at the complements as he turned to leave with his lover, who subspaced the datapad and took Sideswipe back, nuzzling his creation and then his mate as they left the office.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

After the third sweep of their small but clean apartment Prowl sat down with his mate and creations on the floor in the sparsely furnished living room.

"All right. Remember to keep your voices low," Prowl spoke calmly, meeting the optics of each sparkling in turn, then settled on Sunstreaker. "If you are asked, what is my relationship to you?"

"My creator. My carrier if pressed. Pantera if asked what my carrier's designation is," Sunstreaker spoke quietly and seriously. He didn't understand why the false designations and relationships were important, but he knew they were. "My other creator is Saxo, but he's not my sire, he's your mate."

"Very good," Prowl praised him warmly and honestly. "Sideswipe?" he focused on the elder twin.

Sideswipe perked. "You are Pantera and Carrier is Saxo and you are my carrier's mate and not my sire," he said, equally serious. "I do not have a sire that I know." He paused, hesitated. "Is this because of the mech who wants to hurt us?" he asked quietly, reaching out almost subconsciously for Sunstreaker's hand and the comfort there.

"Yes," Prowl nodded, pleased at the connection made.

Jazz smiled softly at them. "What is the other thing you must always, always remember?" he asked.

"We are not twins," the pair recited in unison, and very begrudgingly. They disliked that part of the lie far more than any other.

"But you said that makes us special!" Sideswipe protested, and when Jazz motioned with his hand for him to speak softer, ducked his head a little and lowered his voice. "Sunny is my twin, I don't want to say he isn't."

"It is because twins are so special that we must conceal that truth as well. You are the only twins to emerge in metacycles. That there was a second twin carry in the same century is unusual enough. If anyone learned you are twins, your age would give us away," Prowl explained gently but firmly.

Sideswipe sighed and Sunstreaker frowned in concern, looking at him. Sideswipe turned his head and they looked at each other in silence, obviously discussing the matter over their bond.

Jazz exchanged an uneasy glance with Prowl. That behavior would get them noticed just as much as anything else they were concealing, if not more. A misspoken reference to a "twin" at this age could be covered for by a carrier's gentle reminder that not all brothers were twins, but the evidence of a bond between them could not be explained.

"Sunny, Sides," he said, getting their attention. "You can't let others know when you talk to each other like that."

"How do we hide _that_?" Sunstreaker huffed with a scowl marring his delicate, beautifully strong features that one orn would make him one of the more attractive mecha wherever he went.

"Don't look at each other when you bond-talk," Prowl suggested. "No more than a quick glance. What you need to do is learn to talk verbally while you bond-talk, so your actions do not seem to come out of nowhere."

"That sounds hard," Sideswipe said, very seriously. "We will practice."

"We will help," Jazz assured him. "It is not as difficult as you think it's going to be."

Sideswipe nodded and leaned against his twin. "Why does the bad mech want to hurt us?"

"Because he believes he owns us," Prowl said quietly. "He intends to kill one of you for entertainment."

The sparklings' optics got _huge_ as they stared at their creators. Sunstreaker wrapped his arms around Sideswipe and his little engines growled fiercely. "He will not," he said firmly.

"No, he will not," Jazz said, and reached over to scoop them both up, bringing them over to settle in his lap while Prowl moved in closer, his doorwings flaring out wide and overlapping with Jazz's to form a shield around their creations. "Pantera and I will never let him hurt you," Jazz said, stroking each of their heads in turn as Prowl rubbed their backs. The sparklings purred into the contact, nuzzling their creators.

"That is why we must be so careful of designations, and little details like who your carrier is and what our relationships are," Prowl added gently, his field extended and full of protective, supportive warmth for all three mecha with him. "So long as the bad mech can not find us, he cannot hurt us."

"We understand," Sideswipe hummed while Sunstreaker nodded very seriously.

Jazz smiled and tilted his helm to rest against Prowl's, pulsing love and gratitude back. They sat quietly, watching and petting their sparklings until Sunstreaker looked up at Prowl with a chirped request for energon while Sideswipe's optics dimmed in an indication that he needed to recharge. They still couldn't be online for long periods of time and recharged frequently, giving their creators plenty of time to indulge in each other and make up for the time lost to the sire coding.

Once the pair was fueled and settled comfortably in recharge in the tiny makeshift berth set up near the window that Sideswipe loved to look out of, Jazz stood fully, taking a step back, and felt one of his doorwings hit his mate. "Sorry!" he whispered, cringing with a small, guilty grin as he spun around.

"You'll get used to it," Prowl assured him as he met his mate for a kiss. "Now, how shall we enjoy their nap?"

"I have a few ideas," Jazz hummed, running his fingers down Prowl's arm to twine their fingers together, curling the other hand around the back of his neck to bring him in for another tender brush of his mouth against his mate's, a touch that quickly deepened. "I love you so," Jazz moaned quietly as they drew apart, gripping Prowl tightly, the hand on his neck coming down to press against his chest, x-venting harshly and shaking his head sharply before he led Prowl to their own berth and guided him down onto it. He stretched out against his lover, doorwings folding back as he slid his leg between Prowl's and pulled him into a hungry, aching kiss.

Prowl's valve cover snapped open eagerly, his lubricant already showing to make his valve slick for the spike he adored so much. "It is mutual," he promised between heated kisses, his internal temperature rising quickly. His hands moved along Jazz's frame, caressing and pulling soft moans from him while Prowl rocked his hips against his lover's leg.

Jazz groaned, his hand coming down over Prowl's chest again as he pressed back, his spike starting to pressurize between them. "Never going to get tired of being with you," he said, grinding against Prowl's hip. "Knowing every part of you."

"I want to know everything that makes you feel good, every touch that draws a moan or shiver from you," Prowl purred deeply, pressing into every contact point. He left a lubricant trail on Jazz's thigh as his hand found that ruffled spike he was so enamored of and stroked it lightly. "I've missed this so much. Missed feeling you inside me, riding my valve hard like it belongs to you."

"Because it _does_ belong to me," Jazz said, voice lowering and optics darkening as he lifted himself up and over Prowl, rocking against the teasing fingers that never stopped their touching. He reached back, sliding his hand down Prowl's side to his hip, dipping into the joint for a moment to play with the wires and watch his lover gasp beneath him before sliding down to grip beneath Prowl's leg.

In a single, smooth motion he angled his hips down, away from the touch, and pushed forward, sheathing himself completely as he pulled Prowl's leg up with him, looking right into his lover's optics as he did.

Ice blue brightened with the rush of pleasure and Prowl moaned, shuddering as he reached up to run his hands along Jazz's bumper. His valve cycled tight, catching every ruffle on the inward stroke.

"Beautiful," Jazz whispered, stopping when they arrays came flush and holding there, looking his mate's frame up and down as their equipment shivered and crackled together, warming instantly to the welcomed contact. Very slowly, he rocked his hips back and then in again, intakes catching as Prowl's fingers caressed and explored over him. He put his weight down on his elbow, using the hold he had on Prowl's leg to help him drive forward.

He moved slowly, carefully, rocking over his lover and watching the way his expressions shifted in time with his motion, pushing him slowly, taking his time, relearning every part of his frame and this touch until Prowl was panting and loose, gripping Jazz's shoulders and bucking back against him. Jazz shivered. "_Beautiful,_" he repeated, loving every contour of his lover's bliss-washed face.

"Addicting, enchanting, so very wonderful," Prowl gasped out as he worked the ruffled contours of the spike pulling out of him. "So very beautiful."

Jazz shook and lowered himself down and pressed his face against Prowl's neck, letting go of his leg to reach up and wrap around his lover's shoulder, gripping tightly as he lost himself into that warm, beloved frame. "All I ever wanted," he moaned. "For you to think I'm beautiful. _Primus._"

"I have always thought you are beautiful," Prowl moaned, reveling in the length of their interface already and how far they were from overloading. "So enchanting," he whispered into a kiss as he rolled his hips into each smooth thrust and cycled his valve to squeeze around the intensely pleasurable spike. The gentle rocking from above him stayed slow, even, steady, stretching on and building their charge gradually, giving them the time to fully enjoy each other.

Slowly, so very slowly, their shivers and gasps turned into full-framed shudders and deep moans, panted exclamations of love and devotion that grew more and more senseless as the breems went by.

"_Pantera,_" Jazz gasped suddenly, and his rhythm faltered, then broke, and he gave a sharp whine as the charge of overload broke over him, leaving him sobbing against Prowl's neck as he spilled into his lover and felt the answering wave of energy crackling over the frame beneath him. It was incredible, like the first time in that grotto so many lifetimes ago when Prowl had coaxed him to overload, told him to let go, and held him as he was lost in his lover's arms. Prowl was holding him tightly, their bliss mutual and drawn out, everything they both wanted.

It was only after they were collapsed and panting together, vents struggling to cool them, that Jazz's processors caught up with a noise he wasn't used to hearing. Armor latches unlocking.

His intakes caught, stuttered, and he lifted his head to look at his lover, optics bright and focused on the face that was more like Prowl's than any he'd seen since his original had been melted away. Beautiful, strong Praxian features with ice blue optics, and beneath that the incredible processors that were powered by the spark he'd so long ago given himself to.

Jazz shifted to the side, drawing his spike away, and slid his hand down to the center of Prowl's chest, directly over his spark, fingertips trailing over the unlatched and loosened plating. "Love?" he whispered, fingers trembling, spark pulsing wildly in his chest.

"We ... do not have to merge to enjoy a spark overload," Prowl murmured, only now realizing that his armor had unlocked. "We do ... you don't have to do anything."

Jazz took a slow intake and cycled it through, steadying himself. "Let me see," he said softly as he stroked up and down the seam, though words carried the undertone of a request instead of a command. "Even if we can't... I'd... I'd still like... that is, if you would like..."

"Yes," Prowl smiled warmly up at him and reached to caress Jazz's cheek. He sent the command to expose his chamber and the thick plating slid back in a complex sequence to expose a nearly white light that pulsed and shimmered with the life force of the mech it powered.

Jazz shivered in awe as he looked at it, his fingers tracing around the exposed armor edges for a moment before he reached in and pressed them to the side of the crystal chamber, feeling the warmth and gentle resonance.

"Gently," Prowl gasped, his field a riot with pleasure. "Chambers are delicate."

Jazz nodded and brushed his fingers over the lattice, putting no pressure behind the movements, watching Prowl's face as if shifted through expressions of bliss. "It kills me that he's merged with you and I haven't," Jazz murmured, then flared with _want_ as he imagined merging with his lover, and felt his own armor unlocking.

"I can still touch," Prowl panted, his fingers moving down to caress the seam.

Jazz looked up at him, tracing along the patterns of the crystal, and his own plating shifted and parted, revealing the black crystal cage that surrounded his spark chamber. He centered his fingers over the delicate iris in the middle of Prowl's chamber and held there, his entire frame quivering with longing. "May I touch you?" he whispered.

Prowl nodded, his vocalizer past the ability to make words consistently. The iris split and slowly spiraled open, allowing the leaders to escape and dance along Jazz's fingers, twisting around them and trying to draw them forward.

"Oh," Jazz breathed, stunned by the amount of energy he could feel even in those wisps. He turned his hand over, watching the way the light spilled and flowed through his fingers, wrapping and dancing. Jazz followed them, dipping his hand into the chamber, sinking into the welcoming light, feeling the charge and lifeforce race up along his armor, sinking into even his protoform. He gasped, overwhelmed by how stunning the sight was.

He'd touched sparks before, wrapped his hand around them as they guttered, their mecha tortured to the brink of death, weakened and flickering by the time he got to them. Felt the dying energy of a spark as it gave out rushing over him, full of all the lost potential of a life never to be lived.

Nothing like _this_. Even just touching this spark he could feel _power_. "Primus alive," he whispered reverentially, turning his hand over, caressing the light. "Primus inside you."

"Yours ... just ... strong," Prowl managed to gasp through thick static, his processors and frame flooded by a pleasure like no other. Core coding held him still, the desire to arch into that touch and feel _more_ brilliant in his field where it was meshed with Jazz's.

Jazz hummed and very carefully pushed himself up, swinging into a straddle over Prowl's hips and leaning forward, settling down over his lover. "Tell me how this feels," he murmured, and dipped his head down into Prowl's chest to run his glossa along the side of the chamber.

The answer was immediate and nonverbal, because as soon as his glossa touched the crystal, every joint in Prowl's frame locked and he could only scream, his field flaring brightly as he fell into an overload he hadn't seen coming in the least.

Jazz _shook_ as the energy rushed out, over, and through him, as equally unprepared for it as his lover had been and panted when it faded, lifting his head. "Good, apparently," he said with a soft laugh, twirling his fingers in the light as it reseeded, sated, but still curious enough to play with the offered fingers.

"Very," Prowl gasped as his systems settled. He shivered again. "Move ... hand?" he half-asked, intending to say more before a moan welled up inside him.

"Say please," Jazz purred back at him, delighting in the sound of the moan.

"Please, want... touch yours," Prowl shuddered, panting in pleasure.

Jazz raised an optic ridge at him, impressed, and kept playing for a few more moments until a soft keen rose out of Prowl's throat. "Mm, all right," he hummed, and withdrew his hand with no small amount of regret, wanting to keep exploring the pleasure of the offered spark that he loved so deeply, watching the way the tendrils clung to his fingertips, extending as far as they possibly could to follow him out before they finally broke and faded. Only then did the iris cycle closed. He watched in fascination as the chamber withdrew deeper into Prowl's frame before the armor closed.

It took Prowl several dizzying moments to collect himself, then he smiled up at his mate, armor still loose and venting. "That felt amazing," he purred, his fingers sliding along Jazz's armor to reach the edge where he played feather-light touches along a couple heavy leads to the spark chamber and the intricate, large-grid black cage around it.

"I couldn't tell," Jazz purred back with a grin before his intakes caught from the soft pleasure. "Hate this thing," he whispered as he shivered from the gentle stroking, optics half-shuttered and dimmed. "Can't feel the carrier bond. Can't have you."

"It keeps us safe," Prowl countered gently. "We must be stronger before we challenge him directly."

"I know," Jazz moaned, arms shaking. "Don't mean I don't hate it." His right elbow buckled slightly as the touches continued to move inward, exploring every connection surrounding the blocker.

With a tender kiss, Prowl removed his hands and guided Jazz to his back. "It's safer if there's no chance of you falling into something," he instructed softly before returning his attention to exploring all the myriad of connections to Jazz's spark chamber.

"Feels good," Jazz whispered, arching up into the touch, gripping the berth tightly to keep his hands still. "Can you-deeper?" he asked, not even quite sure what he was asking for, just knowing that he wanted his lover's touch _inside_ him in a way that made him ache.

"Yes," Prowl purred. His fingers moved in, stroking the chamber's crystal through the holes in the cage to circle the center of the iris gentle. "Open for me, love. Let me feel your spark."

Jazz made a strangled noise and nodded, spiraling open after a barely-noticeable hesitation, looking right into Prowl's optics as the delicate covering moved away, gasping softly at the way the light shone and reflected off his lover's face. He reached up and touched Prowl's chest. "Love you," he whispered, caressing. "No one-_aah_," he gasped at the next slow circle around the opening. "No one else will ever have this part of me," he finally managed.

"I treasure it, always," Prowl purred, leaning in to kiss his mate while his fingers played along the crystal they could reach. Only when he had explored the entire surface did he dip a finger into Jazz's chamber, giving the spark he adored a part of him to touch for the first time.

Jazz whined against Prowl's mouth, his entire frame giving a hard shudder at the new, _euphoric_ sensation. His internal charge skyrocketed in an instant and sent an all-consuming wash of static over his sensornet, making his optics flare white and unseeing. The sound came again, this time fuzzy and strained, as Prowl reached a second finger in and swirled through the light that was reaching and clinging to him, beyond ready to take this lover in.

"So beautiful, so perfect, so very perfect," Prowl's voice rolled over Jazz, adding to the bliss that was already beyond comprehending. He continued to rumble praise so Jazz could hear him, even knowing his lover was past understanding the actual words.

The tip into overload took only moments after that as the spark danced and flared out, the energy trying to rush up along Prowl's arm, stopped by the blocker and swirling there beneath the black crystal, crackling and sparking as Jazz's optics flickered out and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

Then the energy started to fade, and as Jazz's vents hiccupped with the end of the overload, Prowl reluctantly withdrew his fingers. He watched, fascinated, as the leaders still clinging to him were forced to let go at the blocker's crystal and resettle back in with the spark, the iris spiraling shut behind them.

Color gradually returned to Jazz's optics as fluffed out armor panted and tried to cool his core temperature back down in the wake of the intense surge that had rushed through them. It took him a few tries to reboot his vocalizer, and his voice was still thick with electrical interference. "Why haven't we been doing that this entire time?"

"Because you were carrying, love," Prowl leaned down to kiss him softly and moved his fingers out of the way of closing armor. "Protocols marked it as dangerous to the sparklings."

"Right," Jazz said, staring past Prowl at the ceiling, dazed. After a moment he pulled his lover down with him, moving awkwardly to lay on his side, needing to take a moment to figure out how to lay his doorwings to even make the motion possible. "Primus that's amazing."

"It was pretty light," a small voice chirped, and the couple turned to see the twins peering around the doorway at them.

"Yes, that was your carrier's spark," Prowl responded with a gentle smile. "You should be recharging."

"But we're all done recharging," Sunstreaker explained while Sideswipe nodded next to him. "Now we want to move."

Jazz nuzzled his mate and laughed softly. "How about cuddling instead?" he asked. "Your creators are tired."

The pair mused the suggestion over, looking at each other while they did before remembering not to and looking away.

"All right," Sideswipe said. "But only for a little while. Then moving."

"Come up here then," Prowl shifted to reach for them when they approached the berth. "I will play with you after your carrier is recharging."

They clamored happily up with Prowl's assistance and climbed over him to settle between their creators, curling happily up between them in the safety and warmth offered by the two adult frames. Jazz leaned over them and kissed his mate. "Thank you," he murmured, before laying his head down and smiling at his sparklings, watching Prowl stroke their heads as he drifted into recharge.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Prowl's doorwings were twitching faintly as he waited outside the precinct building for his mate to arrive with their creations for their first real outing into the world. Their armor was on, though it was only thin sparkling armor, and the colors were beginning to develop. It made Prowl reluctant to go to work each morning and eager to return home, though he enjoyed his work with a passion that many in the precinct found amusing.

He'd managed to find work in the local Enforcers precinct by making a connection through Delta after her recommendation to a friend on his organizational skills, and had their records ever needing organizing. They'd just lost their chief archivist of nearly six centuries, and while he'd been able to understand the outdated record keeping systems, the new chief archivist had been having a fair amount of trouble with them, and the ensuing attempts to reformat had been comically disastrous.

He spotted Jazz's alt form and waved as he pulled off the road next to the building, letting Sideswipe and Sunstreaker climb out before he transformed and greeted his mate with a kiss. "We're very curious today," he purred, looking down at the sparklings that were both holding their hands up at Prowl to be lifted.

"No doubt," Prowl chuckled and knelt to pick up the twins, happy to hold them, especially with Jazz so close. "Are they ready to eat, or will it be treats?"

"Treats!" Sideswipe chirped, then looked at Jazz for conformation, who smiled and nodded, stroking the sparkling's back as Sunstreaker nuzzled up against Prowl's neck and tucked himself against his creator's collar.

"They had their energon before we came," Jazz said. "Not far from here?"

"Not far," Prowl promised as he showed them in. They stopped for a quick conversation with the front desk and Jazz had to listen to a short list of special rules that amounted to "stay close to your mate." He nodded and promised to behave and keep his sparklings under control and then they all had their visitor tags and were off into the employee-only portion of the precinct. Three turns later and they entered the cafeteria, each with a sparkling in hand.

"Have you eaten?" Prowl glanced at his mate.

"Not yet," Jazz said as he adjusted a squirming Sideswipe in his arms. "Got kind of busy."

"We played hide and seek!" Sideswipe told Prowl cheerfully, to which Jazz rolled his optics and shook his head, looking strained.

"You have to tell your creators before you play hide and seek," Jazz said, in a tone that said this was not the first time he'd said those words.

"You enjoyed flustering him, didn't you?" Prowl hide his amusement well. He slid his ID card into a dispenser and drew two cubes.

There was a pause as the twins searched for the new glyph, integrated it, and then nodded at their sire with matching grins. Sunstreaker reached for the card as Prowl moved to put it in subspace. "I wanna try!"

Jazz watched as Prowl let him put the card back into the slot and pull it out, grinning at the way the screen lit back up. "I think fluster is a kind word," he said as Prowl handed him one of the cubes and then cancelled the order screen Sunstreaker had called up. They headed for an empty table that had enough seats for Prowl's colleagues who were planning to join them.

"I'm sorry they're being difficult for you," Prowl said softly, earning something of an agreeing noise from Sunstreaker, though it wasn't much. The second to emerge was the less social but more emotional of the pair even at their young age.

"It isn't too bad," Jazz said, watching with a smile as his creations took in everything around them with wide, interested optics before looking back up at Prowl. "At least they recharge some of the time."

Sideswipe tugged at his armor, pointing very obviously at a minibot who was heading their way, looking smaller than normal in a room full of adult Praxians. "What's he?" he asked in a very loud whisper.

"That is a minibot frame," Prowl answered smoothly. "His designation is Windcharger. He's on search and rescue, but he often spends down time in the archives where I work."

Windcharger raised a hand in greeting as he reached the table, smiling brightly at them. "Finally got the crew in, huh?" he asked Prowl, waving his fingers at Sunstreaker, who watched him silently, clinging to Prowl's neck, while Jazz tried unsuccessfully to stop the squirming Sideswipe from jumping onto the table and peering up at him.

"My carrier is bigger," Sunstreaker finally announced with a note of finality to his voice after he was done looking the minibot over, and nuzzled his face against Prowl.

"An optic for the obvious, I see," the minibot teased him in reply. "I bet your carrier can't do this, though," he raised his hand and focused, lifting Sideswipe off the table by a hand's span.

Sideswipe squeaked in surprise, all of his limbs flailing for a moment before he steadied himself and grinned hugely. Sunstreaker shot upright, optics wide and body quivering with tension, but Prowl's curled hand around him and a murmur of reassurance kept him still, and after a moment, when nothing bad happened, he settled back down.

"Look!" Sideswipe said, waving at Jazz, who smiled back at him, before he looked up at Windcharger. "Go higher!"

"Only if your carrier agrees," the minibot looked directly at Jazz for permission.

An uncertain look flickered over Jazz's face for a moment as he was faced with the pleading look of his creation before he relaxed and nodded. "Just keep him above the table," he said, motioning a vertical line with his hand, and Windcharger nodded in agreement.

"_Yes!_" Sideswipe said, looking back at Windcharger eagerly. "Higher!"

Windcharger chuckled and obliged the excited sparkling, moving him straight up until he was hanging midair higher than any of the mecha in the room would have been able to reach without climbing on the table. Sideswipe squirmed as he tried to look all around, and after a few moments, discovered that motions he made could direct his motion, and after a few failed tries, managed to flip around the static center that Windcharger was holding up. "Look!" he exclaimed, flipped again, and waved at Jazz.

By then every mecha in the room was watching, and at the next flip, a portion of them broke out in applause that made the sparkling beam.

"You are a showoff," Jazz teased his creation as Windcharger lowered him back down into his carrier's arms.

"My turn," Sunstreaker demanded from Prowl's arms.

"He will not give up," Prowl said with soft humor and allowed Sunstreaker to climb onto the table. With and easy motion Windcharger lifted the sparkling up as he had his brother, giving the younger one the same time before delivering him to his creator.

"They're adorable, and smart too," a Praxian in Enforcer black and white commented as he sat down. "I'm Longsight, chief archivist for the precinct," he offered a hand to Jazz. "Your mate has been a blessing from Primus. He's saved me vorns already."

Jazz accepted the hand, glancing at Prowl with a smile. "He tends to be a blessing from Primus wherever he goes," he said, and chuckled. "Primus knows he was for me."

"I enjoy organizing," Prowl said with a shy duck of his doorwings. "And making Saxo happy."

"And you seem to be very good at both of those," Windcharger said as he nabbed a chair better suited to his height from several tables over and jumped up into it. "Those are very beautiful sparklings you two have, by the way," he said as he pulled a cube out from subspace.

Sunstreaker perked at the compliment and preened for a moment to the indulgent chuckles of the watching adults.

"He is good at both of those," Jazz agreed once the laughter died down.

"You must be glad to be getting out again," Longsight said, settling down next to Windcharger. "Now that they're old enough."

"I've been getting out," Jazz said. "Pantera watches them in the evenings so I can stretch my legs and get some peace."

"From organizing files all day to sparkling sitting," Windcharger said, shaking his head. "No thank you."

"It's not for everyone," Prowl agreed readily. "I enjoy it immensely. I would spend more time with them, but we need an income and I have more employable skills."

"Oh?" Longsight said, looking at Jazz. "What do you do? You never know, sometimes there are some pretty odd jobs with the Enforcers you'd never think of."

"I dance," Jazz said smoothly, moving easily as Sideswipe climbed around on him, not even really needing to think anymore about shifting his arms for the sparkling. "I was quite good before my frame went. Most places don't operate at decent joors, though, and it isn't a good choice anymore. Not with these two and Pantera to think about now."

Longsight hummed. "No, can't think of a position for that," he finally said with a laugh. "Unless you want to take up in the break rooms, the patrolling officers get pretty restless if they don't have crime to solve."

"I think we will stick with Pantera working in your archives," Jazz said, noting with a bit of warmth the unhappy look his mate gave at the suggestion.

"When they're older the joors at a good club won't be as straining," Prowl added, mostly to Jazz. "By then I can probably shift my joors a bit to come in a little later so you can recharge enough." He glanced at Longsight.

"If you remain this good, I have no doubt such arrangements will be easy to make," the chief archivist agreed with a warm smile. "Just don't keep where he's dancing a secret. He'll never lack for an appreciative audience, or Enforcer protection."

Jazz bowed at the waist, practicing a pleased flutter of his doorwings as he did. "Thank you," he said, grinning. "Never danced anywhere with Enforcer protection, wouldn't that be novel? The last place had black market weapons deals practically on stage, doesn't attract the nicest clients." He hummed. "That would be nice though, I do miss it, and Pantera could spend more time with the hellions that way."

Prowl leaned against his mate in a remarkably affectionate public display as their doorwings overlapped and touched. "I'd enjoy watching you dance again as well, when the sparklings are old enough to stay at a friend's place for a few joors," his low tone was rich with desire. "You were so lovely on stage before your frame filled out for construction. I've missed that as well."

"You two are utterly adorable," a warm voice came from behind. "I never thought Pantera had so much emotion in him."

Jazz looked over his shoulder to see another Enforcer with patrol markings. He looked Praxian, but he was the biggest Praxian Jazz had ever seen. He guessed there was some kind of convoy or tank frame mixed in with that.

"Sir!" the other Enforcers all said immediately, all of them making to stand before the mech gestured with his hands for them to settle down. Even Prowl reacted, though it was a bit slower than those who had markings.

"We're in the mess hall," he said, grimacing a little out of embarrassment. "I swear. I need to be able to walk _somewhere_ without everyone popping up all around me." He smiled at Jazz. "I'm Mortar, or, Captain Mortar, which is why these fools all insist on getting up. I heard there were sparklings down in my mess and I had to come see for myself. Hello," he rumbled as Sideswipe climbed up to peer at him over Jazz.

"Hello," Sideswipe replied brightly.

"You are the mech in charge," Sunstreaker considered the biggest mecha he'd ever seen. "Does size always equate to rank?"

Mortar gave him a startled look, them laughed from deep in his chassis. "Well I can certainly tell who _your_ carrier was," he said. "No, it does not always equate, though it happens frequently. Organizations that have rank are often battle trained, and the best fighters get to be in charge," he explained, sounding like he was trying to judge the complexity of his answer based on both the age and apparent intelligence of his tiny, rapt audience.

"So you weren't created to lead. You earned it." Sunstreaker said, trilling at the pride he felt in Prowl's field. Though it was a statement, it was a question too.

"Yes, I did," Mortar chuckled, sitting carefully next to Prowl, his knees too tall to fit under the table, leaving him to perch on the chair next to it. "Though it was nothing nearly as heroic or glorious as I'm sure you're imagining," he added.

"Time, effort and following the rules," Prowl supplied. "He worked hard to learn what was expected of him, and he performed those duties well. When leadership was needed, he displayed the ability to lead. Those are the leaders that should be respected. They have earned their rank."

"Oh," Sunstreaker said, still looking at Mortar, who smiled indulgently back at him. "But you are the best fighter too?"

"Well, we do not have a way to determine the best fighter," Mortar said. "Different mecha are talent at different forms of battle."

"Oh, come on, Cap," said a new voice, and they looked up to see a lithe, sauntering mech with a dark face and golden visor stroll up to the gathering. "Pretty sure you could scrap anyone here."

"Your team excluded," Motor regarded the newcomer steadily.

The visored mech chuckled. "I'm Radiance, chief of SWAT." He offered a hand to Jazz. "Your sparklings are beautiful, and very bright. They'll be sparkbreakers when they mature."

"Thank you," Jazz said, accepting the hand and the openly flirtatious look the mech gave him with a smile. Radiance grinned back and then turned the same look on Prowl.

"News of sparklings will just bring everyone out of hiding," he explained his presence, then shifted his focus to Sideswipe, who was climbing his way over Jazz's chest to get closer. "Hello, aren't you just adorable. You know, I bet you could get into plenty of tiny places."

"I can," Sideswipe said, nodding proudly at the interesting new mech, then pointed at his twin. "So can Sunny."

"Well, then," Radiance said, with an obvious wink at Jazz. "Perhaps I will comm the two of you the next time I need someone small to help me on an important mission. How does that sound?"

"Awesome!" Sideswipe said, jumping off of Jazz onto the table. "What can we do?"

"Oh, lots of things," Radiance said, very seriously. "You can get into tiny places and listen without anyone seeing you. But only if it is safe."

"We are good at listening," Sideswipe said, then notice the look that Jazz gave him and modified, "Sometimes."

"Excellent," Radiance said, and grinned brilliantly before looking up at Prowl. "Pantera, right? Sorry, I don't make it upstairs very often, and I'm not sure I even know were the archives are!"

Mortar grunted in obvious, exasperated agreement with that statement.

"Yes," Prowl smiled at SWAT's CO. "You do send me the most interesting of reports, however. It often feels like I know much of your unit, though I do not believe I have actually met any of them."

"I like to keep it that way," Radiance said with a small shrug, sitting down next to Jazz and holding his hand obligingly out for Sideswipe to examine as he greeted the others at the table. "Not taking anyone's seat, am I?"

"No, you are welcome," Prowl said, backed up by the others. It was a pattern that continued as Prowl's lunch break continued. Mecha came by, drawn by the rumor that sparklings were visiting, or that Pantera's much-loved mate had finally showed his face. Some remained, others passed by, all of them cooed at the two metacycle old sparklings and said something nice to them, and often to their creators.

When Longsight got up, he told Prowl to take an extended break, that meeting the sparklings was too good for moral to cut short, and that he'd see Prowl in a couple joors.

By then all Prowl had to do was keep Sunstreaker from wandering too far and lean contentedly against Jazz's side while officers from all levels and divisions in the precinct came and went, every one of them leaving just a little more content, their step a little lighter for the interaction.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

When Prowl got home after work a few metacycles after the lunch with his colleagues, he walked in to find Jazz sitting on the lounge they had finally gotten for their living room, watching the twins playing in the window seat that was still serving as their berth, frowning. He greeted Prowl with a lift of his fingers, not moving his gaze away from his creations.

::Love?:: Prowl opened a comm line to talk privately as he sat down next to Jazz and leaned against him to be close.

Jazz hummed quietly as he reached back for his love, grateful to have him home. ::Yes?::

::What's wrong?::

::Nothing is wrong,:: Jazz said, still watching the sparklings with the same frown. ::They're playing, I'm finally resting... Sideswipe is pretending like he can fly,:: he said, voice sounding odd as he pointed at the older twin, who was jumping with his arms out as Sunstreaker tried to tackle him.

Prowl hummed and nuzzled him. ::You teek more unsettled than that.::

Jazz shifted uncomfortably. ::Probably tired. It was a long day, I took them down near the market to walk around. Have you ever...:: He trailed off, distracted by the spinning jump Sideswipe had just made that took him too close to the edge that left Sunstreaker grabbing for him and pulling him back.

::They watch out for each other,:: Prowl nuzzled him, his processor having calculated that Sideswipe wasn't actually in danger. ::Have I ever ...?::

::Have you ever noticed how protective Sunstreaker is,:: Jazz said, then shook himself. ::You're right, he's just looking after his brother.::

"Creator, creator!" Sideswipe called, jumping for Prowl's attention. "Look, we saw a mech who could fly today but he stayed in place and didn't fall and he did like this!" He repeated the spinning, arms-out motion, landing better this time.

"I've seen them do so," Prowl smiled at the red twin. "Many flight-frames can hover."

"Will I get a flight frame?" Sideswipe asked, creeping for the edge and carefully lowering himself down and running over. "I liked when that minibot made me float."

"No, Sideswipe," Prowl said firmly as he lifted the sparkling up to the lounge. "You are a grounder as we are."

"But I want to fly!" Sideswipe said, reaching up for Prowl's neck as Jazz lifted Sunstreaker up and nuzzled him, optics dimmed.

"I'm sorry, but you won't have a flight frame," Prowl said firmly. It hurt to crush the sparkling's hopes, but better now than later.

Sideswipe drooped, looking at Prowl with huge optics, then sighed and curled against his sire's collar. "But I feel like I'm s'posed to," he pouted, then perked. "Maybe I can make friends with a flight frame and go with them," he said cheerfully.

"Yes, that is always a possibility." Prowl nuzzled him. "You might also be gifted as a pilot. It is something grounders with an instinctive knowledge of the air are often very good at."

"That sounds fun," Sideswipe chirped, then turned to his quiet, frowning twin, angled, and leapt, pouncing on him and pulling him off Jazz's lap and tumbling them both to the floor. "Come play pilot with me!" he demanded, tugging Sunstreaker's arm, leading him back to the window seat.

Jazz watched them, an odd look on his face, then relaxed and smiled as Prowl reached up to rub the back of his neck. "I don't think I was ever as much of a handful as these two are," he chuckled, watching them run around.

"Oh, you very much were," Prowl chuckled. "Your spark has always been bright and full of life. You were quite the delightful terror."

Jazz grinned, leaning against his mate. "Name _one_ time I was a terror," he teased.

"The first time you found the cybercat's den and hid," Prowl suggested. "You had the entire estate in an absolute panic for joors before I realized the cats were acting strange. Or the time you slid the grand stairwell banister and got all scuffed up. It was your worst injury as a sparkling."

Jazz was quiet for a moment, then sat up and frowned at Prowl. "When did I hide in the cybercat's den? I don't remember that at all."

"You were sixteen and a half vorns old," Prowl offered, already cueing what he had of the event in his memory to share, suspecting that Vortex had removed it.

Jazz searched for another klik or so before he shook his head and leaned back against him. "Must have been in the group that got shredded," he sighed. "Which means you were an important part of it."

"I found you and coaxed you out," Prowl said, surprised that he was central to the memory on Jazz's part.

Jazz tried to bring anything up from the incident, couldn't, and shook his head, then growled softly. "Fragging glitch," he hissed, not noticing the way the twins both stopped playing immediately and froze, staring at him from across the room. "That makes two dozen and who knows how many more."

"He didn't take _you_," Prowl caught his lover's far cheek with the palm of his hand and drew him into a kiss. "You saved what was most important," he reminded them both with his forehelm against Jazz's. "Moments come and go. We survive."

Jazz sighed and nodded, fingers brushing over Prowl's dataport. "Show me your version?" he asked, then looked down when he felt hands tugging at his leg.

"Carrier?" Sideswipe asked, while Sunstreaker lifted his arms up. "You sounded scary."

"You scared us," Sunstreaker said as Jazz helped them both up.

"I'm sorry," Jazz said, nuzzling the both of them. "I didn't mean to."

"You can make him feel better right?" Sunstreaker asked Prowl, crawling over to him.

"I can do some to help. The rest will take time to heal," Prowl explained as gently as he could to the rich yellow sparkling in his lap even as he plugged into his mate and offered the ready-queued memory. "Some hurts, emotional hurts, can take a long time to recover from."

"Oh," Sunstreaker said quietly, and looked back at Jazz, whose optics dimmed as he watched Prowl's version of the memory. The sparklings sat still and silent, sensing that interruptions or questions would not be welcomed right now.

~You were so worried,~ Jazz said, watching through Prowl's optics as the seneschal went through every corner of the estate, calling upon security systems, the entire network of servants, and physically opening and looking into every storage cupboard himself, even if it had already been searched.

~I was terrified you had been taken,~ Prowl murmured, and here, with the hardline, it was clear that the terror was not at failing to protect Jazz as his duty, though that was strong, but that he had failed to protect the spark he already cared far too deeply for. ~Or lost somewhere where you could not escape and would starve. You'd never hidden from us before.~

~I wonder why I did,~ Jazz hummed, then smiled when Prowl finally found the small, white sparkling curled up in the cybercat's den, who was huddled in the back, not wanting to come out because he was afraid of getting in trouble. Prowl coaxed and promised that he wouldn't, and as soon as he said that, Jazz immediately crawled out and jumped into his arms, chattering happily about his adventure before he stopped, teeked, and looked at Prowl with wide, confused optics.

~You were so young, I'm sure you didn't realize how we'd take it,~ Prowl nuzzled him gently. ~As I said, it was the first time we couldn't find you within a few kliks. Just how you greeted me said that you weren't _trying_ to hide from us.~

While Jazz's memory may have ended shortly after Prowl had found him, Prowl's memory of the event stretched on, including the beating and restricted rations he received and how he'd pleaded Jazz's case anyway, reminding the Lords of the sparkling's youth and reaction to being found.

~Oh, Prowl,~ Jazz whispered, nuzzling his lover. ~I'm so sorry. I don't remember being punished for that, they must have listened to you.~

~You weren't,~ Prowl murmured. ~What I was punished for was not knowing where you were, not my word in your defense. The security of the estate increased significantly after that. You could hide, but not from me.~

Jazz drew his mate into a deep kiss. ~And here I always thought I was being very sneaky and clever when I was trying to get away from you and my carrier.~

Prowl laughed into the kiss before he finally pulled away, optics glittering in good humor. ~Oh, you were good, my little pit demon, you still are. I am simply better at keeping track than you are at hiding.~

Jazz purred. ~I will have to see if I can fix that,~ he said. ~I've gotten plenty good at other things in the meantime.~

The twins started squirming, teeking their creators' lightened moods, looking up at them with bright, eager optics. "Play with us?" Sideswipe asked, while Sunstreaker nodded eagerly.

Prowl grinned down at them and unplugged from his lover. "What would you like to play?"

"Memory!" Sunstreaker chirped.

"All right," Jazz said with a smile, lifting Sideswipe as he stood, carrying the sparkling with him as he went to retrieve the game while Prowl settled behind the excitedly trilling Sunstreaker on the floor.

They were already showing a love of processor games, something that made it impossible for Prowl to hide his pride in the pair, not that he ever tried to. Jazz brought the game back, set it up, then cuddled next to his mate as they watched their creations play together, turning and matching the tiles, chattering to each other and their carriers, and enjoying the time together.


	21. Breaking Down

Starcrossed 21: Breaking Down  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl accepted being the center of attention as he walked into the precinct with both sparklings in tow and on their best manners. Word had gotten around that he was going to do so, but it still earned him a few sympathetic looks as he guided his creations towards the archives deep inside the building.

"Why didn't Carrier come with us?" Sideswipe asked in a loud whisper from where he was perched on Prowl's shoulder, holding onto his neck.

"He's looking for work today," Prowl said gently. "I think he needs a bit of a break. He is quite young."

"A break from us?" Sunstreaker asked, looking up at Prowl.

"From the responsibility of caring for you," Prowl gentled the truth without denying it. "It's more stressful for him than either of us anticipated."

"Are we in trouble?" Sideswipe asked, and Prowl could just *feel* the sparkling drooping.

"No, little one," Prowl stopped and trilled gently. He knelt so he could be optic level with both of them. "You are not in trouble. You are with me because I love all three of you dearly. We could have gotten someone else to watch you, but we don't want that."

They nodded in unison and Sunstreaker jumped up to wrap his arms around Prowl's neck. "We would rather be with you, too," he said, nuzzling him.

"Yes," Sideswipe chirped. "And if we are here with you, Carrier will be happier when we get home?"

"I hope so," Prowl nuzzled them both. "Even if he's not, *I* will get to enjoy some more time with you," he smiled, his field warm and honest as he stood to guide them into the lift that would take them to the archives where he worked.

"Can we help you work?" Sunstreaker asked as the lift opened, following Prowl out, having to take three steps for every one of Prowl's, even as slowed down as they were.

"Yes," Prowl smiled. "I also brought some games for you, and blankets for a nap."

"I expect more visitors today than I usually see in a vorn," Longsight chuckled from the primary workstation. "It'll be nice to have sparklings around again. I miss mine."

Sideswipe ran over to the chief archivist and tried to climb up on his chair. "Where did they go?" he asked as Longsight helped him up into his lap, completely at ease with the mech he'd only met once before.

"They grew up and moved out to have their own lives and families," Longsight told him easily as he noted Prowl settling down to work at his typical lightning fast pace with a rapt Sunstreaker as audience, though not without the occasional sideways glance at his brother. "Creations don't stay at home forever."

"But I don't want to not live with my creators," Sideswipe said, and there was an answering hum of agreement from Sunstreaker.

"It will be a long time before that happens," Longsight assured him. "And you might be more ready than you think by the time it happens."

"You have centuries before that's even an option," Prowl added quietly. He could easily do his job and keep tabs on the conversation. "Much will change in that time. Though I hope you will remain fond of us no matter where you are."

"Of course we will," Sunstreaker said, nuzzling his creator, happily curled up against his plating and watching the screens.

A few kliks passed by in silence while the sparklings watched the adults work, before Sideswipe chirped, "I'm bored."

"What would you like to play?" Prowl asked easily with a look towards the red sparkling.

"Toss!" Sideswipe said, climbing up on Longsight's shoulder and looking eagerly at Prowl.

"It must be a game that does not require my hands," Prowl corrected his offer.

Sideswipe pouted for a moment, getting himself a chuckle from Longsight as he teeked the sparkling's sulking field, then reconsidered. "Do you have the racing game?" he asked.

"Of course," Prowl took it from subspace and offered it to the red sparkling.

The next six joors went much like that, the pair occasionally asking for another game, or getting a snack, or asking questions or chasing each other around and climbing on the stacks of datapads and evidence stored in the archive. It was nearly lunch when Prowl suddenly lurched from his chair and all but flung himself halfway across the room to catch a falling Sideswipe before he was damaged by the floor.

It left Prowl on his back, clutching the red sparkling tightly and fighting the dizzying sensation of scraped doorwings.

Longsight spun in his chair, startled from his work, and stared, then looked up to see what Sideswipe could have possibly launched himself from and saw a timid Sunstreaker peeking down from behind some boxes on the top shelf. "Good catch," he said dryly.

Sideswipe squirmed. "You're holding too tight!" he complained, completely unfazed by the fall or how close he'd come to being damaged, if he even realized at all.

"You scared me," Prowl countered as he forced himself to let go of the squirming sparkling. "You could have been badly damaged."

"How?" Sideswipe asked, sitting on Prowl's chest.

"A fall from several times your height will damage you," Prowl explained, not trying to get up.

Sunstreaker finished climbing the rest of the way down the structure of the shelving that Sideswipe had launched himself from, presumably trying to reach the lighting fixture in the middle of the ceiling and ran over, climbed up on Prowl's chest, and started running his hands all over Sideswipe's armor, checking for injury himself, scowling.

Sideswipe mostly ignored him, looking up at the height he'd jumped from. "How badly damaged from that distance?"

"Badly enough for an emergency run to the hospital, and likely you'd have to stay there for a while," Prowl told him, not yet protesting his position.

"So from half that height...?" the sparkling asked tentatively, and Prowl could just about hear his processors running through developing risk protocols as they received the hypothetical data.

"Relative to your current height, you could be badly damaged," Prowl told him.

"How high can I jump from and not be damaged?" Sideswipe asked as Sunstreaker settled next to him, also curious to know.

Prowl had to pause to answer that. The calculations were all but instant, but translating them to something his very young sparkling could understand took a bit more doing. Sideswipe wasn't yet at the point where giving him the formulas and variables would do much good.

"In your current frame, you can jump from twice your height with minimal risk. Three times if you can be sure of landing on your pedes. Four with a soft landing. Past that you risk too much damage."

Both sparklings nodded as he spoke, processing and carefully not looking at each other though Prowl was sure they were talking.

"Don't tell them that," Longsight chuckled, having turned around by now to watch, and caught their attention. "You want to know how high you can jump from?" he asked, and they both nodded.

Longsight stood and held his arm straight up, hand flat. "Do this."

With a dubious glance at each other, they obeyed.

"That is how high you can jump from," Longsight told them.

He got matching scowls in return. "That is less than what Carrier told us," Sunstreaker said as Sideswipe nodded in agreement.

Prowl, too, was looking at the older and much more experienced creator curiously.

"That is because your creator thinks that you will use good sense when you are playing," Longsight told them, and stood to help Prowl up to his pedes by shooing the sparklings off his chest. "But I know that you will find the very most you are told is safe and go just a *little* more than that. So the rule is, no matter how tall you are, your hand is as high as you can jump from."

"We jump from our berth all the time and it is taller than that," Sideswipe informed him.

Longsight chuckled. "It isn't a perfect rule. Just meant to keep adventurous sparklings safe and creators' lives easier."

"I like Carrier's rule better," Sunstreaker said.

"Longsight's makes more sense," Prowl decided. "It is the standing rule. Do not jump from any higher than your shoulder."

He was immediately faced with all the indignant devastation that two sparklings' faces could manage.

"You may use the more complicated risk assessment formula I use when your processors are mature enough to utilize it," Prowl gave a little.

The twins glanced at each other for a split moment, then smiled with perfect obedient innocence up at him. "Yes, Carrier," Sunstreaker said, while Sideswipe tugged at his arm, eager to keep playing, since the new rule didn't seem to affect allowed climbing height.

Longsight smiled at them, then looked back at Prowl and gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to ruin sparkling days. That was my carrier's rule and it didn't keep any of mine out of the air for long, but it works for a little while."

"I don't mind," Prowl said as he watched the pair climb. "I don't expect it'll work on them long either. Did yours have an airframe creator?"

Longsight gave him a startled look. "Yes," he said. "Does Sunstreaker?"

"Sideswipe," Prowl said. "Though I don't know what kind. This isn't his first time trying to fly."

Longsight hummed as he looked up at the pair. "Spark influence from the sire," he said. "My last had it the worst, stuck in a grounder frame and always wanting to be in the air." He chuckled to himself. "Thankfully by then we had stopped being worried about every leap they took. Primus, if he'd been the first, he would have been the last."

"How did he adapt, if he has?" Prowl asked with keen interest for anything that might help his creation be happy as they went back to their workstations.

Longsight made a sound that was caught halfway between amusement and exasperation. "Took up with a shuttle, of all things. D'you have any idea how hard it is to host for a shuttle? They're huge!" He paused, sighed, and then there was a smile in his voice. "Makes him happy, though."

"It's all I really want for them," Prowl glanced at the climbing sparklings. "If they're happy, the rest can be dealt with."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It felt *so good* to move again, Jazz thought as he spun around his dance partner, barely paying attention to him, the music, or the audience. It had taken some time to get used to the doorwings, but once he'd integrated them into the motion scripts, dancing had become easy and carefree and *freeing*. All he wanted to focus on was the feeling of his frame dipping and winding in time with the low, thrumming beat, and what it meant to be doing something he *loved*.

Instead of...

He shook his head sharply, refocusing. He loved his twins. Their twins. More than anything, but he just couldn't deny how much better he felt now that he was spending more time away from them.

It was because he was tired, he assured himself. He was tired and dancing and the crowd and the way it felt to be *looked* at energized him. And Prowl loved spending time with their creations, it was a better situation for everybody.

There had been some orns when he hadn't thought he could continue much longer. Apparently he wasn't as made out to be a creator as he'd always been led to believe. Some bit of coding hadn't gotten passed on correctly, perhaps, but a little time away from home on his own, bringing in income and loving what he was doing was going to fix that. He was going to love his twins and watch them grow and spend the rest of his life with Prowl.

The song ended and Jazz carefully righted his partner, who he'd dipped back, and bowed to the crowd. It was a small club, with a fee to even get inside, and it was respectable and clean and he was making a good income for what he was doing. And true to Mortar's word, there were always Enforcers around or near the building when he was on shift. He, like Engineer had, protected his own, and that included those important to them.

And tonight, on top of that, Radiance was sitting in the audience, watching him with that glittering gold visor, dark face tipped invitingly up and a small predatory smile on his lips.

Jazz was able to ignore it-mostly, the mech was a looker-until he finished with his set and walked backstage to slip out the side exit and into the audience, going over to the SWAT commander's table and sliding into the empty chair.

"So you're my sparkling sitter for the night, hm?" Jazz teased.

"I doubt you need much protecting," Radiance grinned at him and waved for another drink. "Not with the way you move. I thought so before, but now I'm sure you've had some good, practical combat training. Though you did learn to dance first."

"You can tell that?" Jazz asked, grinning back, relaxing in his seat and turning to look up at the dancers still on stage. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me."

"My survival does require I can judge a fight well," Radiance chuckled as the drink was delivered and he slid it over to Jazz. "Your mate's better than you, I expect, though not by much."

Jazz nodded once, lifting the cube up for a deep swallow, sighing contentedly as he immediately felt the high grade start to buzz through his systems. "He's been practicing longer," he said, leaning back and shuttering his optics.

"Are you still practicing?" Radiance asked. An innocent question that could imply so much that was not innocent.

"With Pantera, when we can," Jazz said, then smiled sardonically. "When we're not too tired."

"Which is not often, I expect," Radiance chuckled deeply. "Sparklings are their own workout. Enjoying the escape?"

"So much," Jazz admitted. "And I know Pantera is enjoying to spend more time with them."

"It sounds like a good arrangement then," Radiance smiled at him, relaxed and enjoying the show. "Is this what you want to do, when they're old enough for you to work full-time again?"

Jazz shrugged a little. "Probably. Comes naturally, I enjoy it... I really don't know what else I'd do, I can't say I have any real useful skills."

"Really?" Radiance's surprise was genuine. "Disowned, then?" he asked gently.

Jazz flashed a grin at him. "There is a fine line between being disowned and running away before they get a chance to kick you out."

"Order of paperwork versus leaving," the SWAT commander nodded. "I'm sure you could learn any number of occupations. As Pantera has said, you're young. A couple centuries for the sparklings to grow up, and you'll be able to do most anything that appeals to you for a function."

"Likely so," Jazz hummed, watching the dancers. "I saw some acrobat performers once, it might take centuries to get as good as they were but it looked amazing."

"I've watched a few shows, they're impressive," Radiance readily admitted to the truth. "I'm good, but even I was left stunned at some of the moves. It really is amazing to witness what ground-frames are capable of with training and some mods."

"You have any mods like that?" Jazz asked, glancing over. "How do they work?"

"I don't know all the mods they use, though I'm sure mag systems are a major one," Radiance shrugged and lifted a hand. Jazz suddenly felt a strong pull towards it. "I have mag generators in my hands and pedes. Got them as part of SWAT upgrades so I can climb buildings without equipment. They're useful for disarming mecha too," he grinned devilishly.

Jazz grinned back. "I'll bet you're good at disarming in more than once sense."

"I do have a reputation for it," Radiance purred, teasing and flirtatious, but not serious. Oh, he'd take this pretty creature to his berth if invited, but he wasn't about to try. "You know you could have any mecha here, if you wanted."

"And I'll bet you could tell me how they all are before I even got to them," Jazz teased, raising his glass to the visored mech before tilting his head back to swallow what remained. "Have anything besides the mag systems?"

"Nothing else quite as versatile," Radiance grinned, not denying or confirming the statement of his range of experience. "Sensors, armor, reflexes. Useful on the job. Not nearly as entertaining off it."

"Stick with the mag systems for a pick-up," Jazz agreed. "Much more exotic sounding."

"They're *very* useful in the berth too," Radiance purred. "Especially if your lover is all tense."

Jazz grinned, set his empty cube aside to be picked up, and didn't comment to that. "How'd you get into SWAT?"

"I was aiming for SWAT since I was a mechling," the CO said. "I went to the academy, graduated with good scores, went on patrol and was a good Enforcer. I showed myself to be a level processor under fire and a leader. I made a point of learning new weapons, spending extra time on the range, extra time in classes from engineering to psychology, and having that in my records. Eventually I was invited in and the real training began."

"And you did well, apparently," Jazz said, looking him up and down without bothering to hide his enjoyment of the dark frame. "What about this?" he asked, leaning over and brushing the side of Radiance's face where the visor seemed to hook in. "Is this SWAT, too?"

"This one is, but I've always liked wearing one. Two of my creators had them."

Jazz hummed. "It looks good on you," he said. "It replaces the optic systems? Enhances them?"

"One of my creators had it as a replacement, but most are either decorative or enhancements," Radiance said easily, signaling for another round for them both. "This one's an enhancement," he added as it lifted to reveal matching yellow optics.

"Very pretty," Jazz purred, then chuckled. "I'd say you shouldn't hide them, but then you wouldn't have the visor, and that would be a shame."

"It definitely would be," Radiance agreed as the visor slid back down and their cubes arrived. "You'd look rather dashing with a visor you know."

"You think?" Jazz asked, nodding in thanks to the server as he accepted his. "Maybe someday if I ever get the mods for acrobatics."

"Yes, especially as a dancer. A mirrored visor would add a bit of mystery to your routine," he actually trilled in appreciation of the mental image. "They aren't expensive if it's only decorative. But then, I'm partial to them," he tapped his own.

"I'll keep that in mind," Jazz purred with an appreciative trill of his own as he settled back to return his gaze towards the dancers.

"So other than stressed out trying to care for two young sparklings, how are things with you and Pantera?" Radiance asked politely, though he really did want to know.

Jazz glanced at him. "If you're asking because I'm flirting with you, you should know the only thing keeping me from asking you into our berth is the sparklings." He smiled. "Things are good, things are perfect, he's perfect."

Radiance grinned and sipped his drink. "Nice to know, though I was asking because trouble at home ends up being trouble at work. There is support if you need it. Young creators, a new couple with two new sparklings ... well, we're kinda expecting trouble of the kind that can he headed off."

Jazz nodded. "Pantera and I are fine. I'm just..." He paused, searching for the right words. "A little overwhelmed by the pair, they energize each other. This is helping."

"Good," Radiance reached out and squeezed Jazz's shoulder. "Just remember that you aren't in this alone anymore. There are plenty of mecha who would be delighted to look after the pair for a while so you can have time with your mate."

Jazz's gaze flickered for a moment. "Maybe," he said. "Neither of us is fond of the idea of them being with anyone else... maybe that will relax in time." He took another sip of high grade and glanced at his chronometer. "I should head home as soon as I finish this."

"They're less than a vorn old, Saxo," Radiance said gently. "Totally normal to be hyper-protective, and to be worn out. Are you sure you're good to drive?"

"I'm good," Jazz said, and let his engines purr. "Though if I'm ever not, I promise I will let the gorgeous Enforcer know so he can escort me home safely."

"Maybe I'll just tail you home anyway, just to watch that pretty aft a bit longer," Radiance flirted back, teasing. He paused for a moment, visor glittering mischievously. "Do you ever dance just for Pantera?"

"As often as I can and whenever he asks me," Jazz grinned, and let his voice slip down in pitch. "Though they wouldn't allow the kind of dancing I do for him in here."

"I bet you don't get to finish a dance very often," Radiance's engine rumbled deeply. "Ever tied him to the berth so he has to watch all the way through?"

"Nah," Jazz said. "He stays when he's told. I'm usually the one who can't get all the way through a dance." He finished his drink and stood, tilting his head curiously at the other mech. "Gonna stay and watch or tail me?"

"Mmm, I think I'm going to enjoy my door fee in full," Radiance grinned at him. "I'm sure you know your way home."

Jazz smiled and dipped his head in agreement. "And I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself," he purred, waved in farewell, and wove his way through the audience to head back.

He was expecting to find Prowl still getting the sparklings ready for their nightly recharge, and was pleasantly surprised to open the door and see all three of them on their lounge, the twins curled in Prowl's lap as he read to them, voice low and smooth. They lifted their heads at the sound of the door opening and Prowl paused and helped them down so they could run over to greet Jazz. He knelt down and scooped the two up into a tight hug against his chest, feeling a strange mix of unsettled and joyful to have them in his arms. "Hello, my loves," he murmured, nuzzling them.

They nuzzled back, and then when Jazz didn't let go, started squirming. "Carrier!" Sideswipe protested.

Jazz startled and immediately let them go, and they ran back to Prowl, who helped them back into his lap. Jazz followed and leaned over to kiss his mate in welcome. That welcome was far warmer, and included a hand around the back of his helm to extend the kiss far longer than a simple greeting as Prowl's engine gave a rev of welcome.

Jazz's purred in response as he shifted and settled himself down next to his mate and leaned against him. "What are you reading tonight?" he asked.

"Primus and Unicron," Sunstreaker said, and looked expectantly up at Prowl.

"They were never this good for me," Jazz asked with a soft smile.

Sunstreaker looked up at him. "Pantera makes us behave."

"It's a skill," Prowl said gently with another soft kiss.

Jazz hummed. "One I am very glad you have, among others." He looked down when Sideswipe poked at him and the sparkling held his hand up to indicate that silence was desired, then turned back to the datapad that Prowl was holding. Jazz raised an optic ridge and looked at his mate, amused.

Prowl simply chuckled before he resumed the story of the creation of Cybertron from Primus's chassis and how Unicron was banished to the far side of the universe when he lost the battle that cost Primus so much. It was a story Jazz was long familiar with, though it occurred to him that if Prowl had been the one to tell him he would have paid better attention. He certainly was now.

When the legend was completed, Prowl turned off the datapad. "It is time for recharge."

And to Jazz's amazement, the pair only pouted at Prowl for a moment, and when his mate simply looked back, they sighed, hugged both of them, and got up to climb into their berth themselves.

Jazz stared. ::If I hadn't just seen that myself, I would never believe it.::

::Discipline is a skill, love,:: Prowl kissed him softly before standing and drawing Jazz against him. ::How was work?::

::One I apparently do not have,:: Jazz said ruefully. ::I tell them time for recharge and they ask for one more game and somehow I get drawn into it with absolutely no memory of how. Work was wonderful. And Radiance was watching today. He is a vision,:: Jazz purred.

::You didn't have enough time as a youngster yourself,:: Prowl held him close. ::I'll try to show you how to control them. Mostly it's that trick of not getting drawn into the game or story, and careful application of ignoring them. Radiance was a vision, now? Should I be concerned that I'm no longer satisfactory in the berth?:: he teased.

::All *you* need to be concerned with is making sure your equipment doesn't wear out with how often I want to enjoy your satisfaction,:: Jazz said, pressing their helms together. ::Please, *please* tell me you are in a mood that I can spike you senseless.::

"Oh, most definitely," Prowl's high engine rev added confirmation as he drew Jazz into their berthroom. "Any and every way you want me. Just tell me what would please you the most."

Jazz pushed him towards the berth as soon as they were through the door, engines rumbling deeply. "You, on your back, spread so shamelessly wide it would make a pleasurebot blush," he purred in a low voice, optics darkening.

Prowl moaned at the words and complied as he laid down and spread his legs apart. His valve cover slid open and he slid his arms up over his helm. "Take me, fill me, use me for your pleasure, my love," he purred, arching his frame seductively as he looked with arousal brightened optics and heated desire as his valve began to lubricate.

"Always," Jazz moaned as he climbed over him and sank in, shuddering from the burst of *hot-tight-movement* that flooded over his sensor net. "Always, my love."


	22. Race Day

Starcrossed 22: Race Day  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So _fast!_" Sunstreaker trilled, squirming in Prowl's arms as they entered the local racetrack. Jazz was having just as much trouble keeping Sideswipe in check.

"Settle down or we won't be able to get closer," Prowl warned them.

They settled, _barely_, but Jazz could feel Sideswipe _quivering_ against him as the racers came around the curve and shot by. "Please can we get closer," the sparkling said, voice and field ringing with excitement.

Jazz felt like squirming himself. Sideswipe felt odd in his arms and against his plating, and he wasn't sure if it was the crowds or just having them at a moderately sized public event for the first time, but he was uncomfortable and really wished he wasn't holding his creation so close. "Yes, we can get closer," he answered, looking around.

"Follow," Prowl said simply as he began weaving his way through the crowds, angling away from the trackside towards the seating above. The energy was a little more controlled up here for the creators, but the view of the entire track satisfied the sparklings.

They were still quivering with excitement, if that was any indication.

"When can we go like that?" Sunstreaker asks, optics wide and bright.

"You can not race here until your adult frame," Prowl said firmly. "Once you are in your mechling frame you will have an alt mode and can race on the mechling tracks."

"But that's in _forever_," Sideswipe sighed, but perked as soon as the racers came back around again. "Look at that one!" he said, pointing at the flashy, red and gold colored leader. "That's him, right?" he asked, meaning the relatively well-known local racing celebrity who was the reason for much of the crowd.

"Yes," Jazz said. "That's Comet."

"Can we meet him? I want to see what he looks like in root mode!"

"We can try," Prowl said, his tone dubious. "If you wish to see what he looks like, watching from up here is much more likely to produce a good result. Closer is not always better."

The twins looked at each other, apparently trying to decide if that was the truth or a way to make them feel better about not getting to see him, then nodded once.

"All right," Sunstreaker said, and Sideswipe cuddled up against Jazz's chest, trilling in contentment as the race went on.

"After the race, we can visit the sparkling center. They have a track and little vehicles to race with," Prowl suggested. "You can meet a few others your age and socialize."

"That sounds fun," Sideswipe said eagerly, then looked up and gave a sharp, excited chirp, pointing at the Aerial unit that was flying overhead, suddenly squirming so badly that Jazz very nearly lost his grip and had to lunge forward to catch the jumping sparkling. "Look look look!" he trilled, and turned to Prowl, optics wide and bright with excitement, before looking at Jazz, and then faltered when he saw the unfamiliar look on his carrier's face and looked back at Prowl, uncertain.

Prowl's optics were focused on his mate. ::Saxo?::

Jazz physically jerked, tore his gaze away from Sideswipe and shook his head, frowning. "Sorry," he murmured, and shifted uncomfortably. "Why don't you go sit with Sunstreaker?"

Sideswipe nodded and scurried away from his carrier to his brother where they both pressed close to their sire. It only lasted a moment before the race captured their attention again.

::What's wrong?:: Prowl asked, genuinely concerned.

Jazz frowned, because there was little point in replying "nothing" because Prowl wouldn't believe him. He shifted again, trying to focus on the racers. ::Just-felt weird, felt fuzzy. And like he wasn't-I don't know. I just-I wish he would stop pointing at every Aerial he sees!:: he hissed, and got a startled look from both sparklings as his field spiked out aggressively.

Prowl's field wrapped around his creations protectively, shielding them from Jazz. He didn't even realize he'd physically put himself, his wings, between them as well until the unease of a few mecha around them made him check his posture.

::They are nothing like _him_.:: Prowl said firmly, insisting with everything he was as he forced himself to straighten and settle his wing language. ::Mecha have to be taught to be evil. They will not be taught.::

Jazz winced when he realized his mate had been shielding their sparklings from _him_. ::I know that,:: he said, forcing his field to smooth, forcing his emotions to level, and sighed. ::I know that. I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me.:: He lifted his hand up to his helm, touching, shaking his head once more.

Prowl reached out with one hand, the other arm lightly corralling the sparklings in his lap. ::We will talk about this more by hardline, when we've put them down for a nap. We'll make things work out.:: His field reached out to caress Jazz with love and care.

Jazz pressed back gratefully, then focused on the twins. Sunstreaker had his arms around Sideswipe as well and they were watching the race together, very carefully looking like that was all they were doing.

Jazz's spark _throbbed_ in his chest. "Sides?" he trilled gently.

Both sparklings looked at him, but Sunstreaker's expression was a defiant, protective glare.

"Carrier," Sideswipe responded, wanting things to be okay and terrified they wouldn't be despite his brother and sire.

"I'm sorry," Jazz said quietly, and held his hand out just short of his sparkling, field perfectly calm and soothing. "I didn't mean to startle you, dear spark, you did nothing wrong. I'd like it if you would sit with me, but only if you want to?"

Sideswipe smiled brightly and scrambled out of Prowl's lap despite Sunstreaker's hissing efforts to restrain him. Prowl's field washed over them both with approval and thanks.

Jazz trilled to his tiny, chirping bundle of sparkling and held him close, nuzzling his neck and tickling gently, making Sideswipe trill and squirm, laughing, easily and eagerly letting himself be enveloped by his carrier's arms as they settled in to watch the rest of the races.

Once the main races had ended and Comet left the track, smaller local racing began again, but by then the twins were getting restless with sitting still. There was only so much watching other mecha go fast while they were barely permitted to squirm that they could handle, and Prowl tactfully mentioned a play area for sparklings that the track kept up, for mecha to leave their creations in another's care.

Prowl and Jazz were not about to leave their creations there, but creators were more than welcome to stay, socialize, watch, and play, and it would be a good chance for the twins to meet some age-mates and do some socializing of their own. It wouldn't be bad for Jazz and Prowl to meet and interact with the creators of the twins' likely classmates when they were older, either.

There were about a half dozen other sparklings running around on the play equipment and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker barely made it to the gates before leaping out of their creators' arms and dashing off to join them.

"Not afraid of anything," Jazz said with a hint of a smile, watching them.

"They're far too young to understand what being hurt means," Prowl smiled indulgently and guided Jazz to a bench seat near the edge where they could watch without hovering. It was the furthest they'd allowed the pair to wander and they both knew all too soon they would be required to leave them alone with strangers.

"Twins?" a light tenor asked, drawing their attention to a bright orange and red mechling with a ready grin and bright energy.

"Oh, no," Jazz laughed, and leaned against Prowl, twining their fingers together. "They certainly like to think they are, though. We met when we were both already carrying," he explained, and nuzzled his mate.

The youth scowled, his field agitated and distressed, surprising them both until he spoke. "How could a mate leave with a creation on the way? Doesn't it take effort and intent to make that happen?"

"Most of the time, yes," Prowl's field reached out to sooth him softly. "But occasionally a newspark can be generated without intent. Or with unconscious desire by one. It happens too often these orns, but we were lucky," he nuzzled Jazz and kissed at his neck cabling until he got a shiver and soft moan. "We each found a real mate when the spark sires proved unworthy."

Jazz purred back at him, a look on his face that said Prowl was going to pay for the teasing kisses later. "Now it's just a matter of who wins the argument of who carries next," he told the youth with a grin. "I'm Saxo, this is Pantera."

"Peca," the youth grinned at him and offered a hand to shake. "I'm watching my cousin," he motioned towards the group without being clear which one he was connected to. "Praxus is nice, but I'm looking forward to going home again."

Jazz smiled at him as he and Prowl settled in to watch, neither of them ever fully taking their attention off their sparklings, who were so far playing on their own, obviously loving the lack of close supervision as they climbed around on the equipment. "Where's home?" he asked politely.

"Iacon," Pica leaned against the wall. "Creators had some job that they'd be working on like thirty-six joors an orn and didn't think I should have a metacycle unsupervised." He huffed. "The race tracks here are awesome though. There's hardly anything in Iacon that lets mechlings race. I'll miss that. Do you race, or just watch?"

"We just watch," Jazz answered, Prowl being mostly focused on the twins. Jazz looked back from Pica just in time to see Sideswipe jumping off a platform that was easily twice his current height. "I'm pretty sure that shatters the shoulder rule," he murmured, amused, curious to see what Prowl was going to do about it.

"Sideswipe," Prowl's voice was even, calm, but decidedly commanding. It brought the red sparkling to him with only a half-sparked effort to look too cute to punish. Prowl didn't even have to say anything. He simply pointed to a spot on the wall and the sparkling went and sat down, facing it. "Three kliks."

"He'll actually stay there?" Pica sounded amazed.

"If he wants to play again he will. Time restarts if he gets up, throws anything, speaks or is otherwise disruptive."

Pica made a low, astonished whistling sound. "You don't happen to give lessons on that, do you?"

"There isn't much to it other than consistency," Prowl told him. "Be clear about the rules. Be clear what the punishments are. Be calm. If they break the rules of the punishment, do not speak. Quietly bring them back to the spot or take the object away. The only thing you should say during the punishment is 'time has restarted' or 'time is up'. The key is consistency, remaining calm and not giving them attention when they seek it during punishment."

"Don't worry, it's really not as easy as he's making it sound," Jazz told the youth who was now staring in open-mouthed awe. "Unless you're him, that is." He watched Sunstreaker, who was now only making a half-sparked attempt at continuing to play on his own, mostly concerned with keeping an optic on his twin, impatient for him to come back.

The remaining three kliks passed by without event and the very nanoklik they were up, Sideswipe sprang to his pedes and turned, running back, but he pulled up short when another sparkling dove on him from where he'd been hiding in a playful tackle.

Sideswipe rolled easily with it, play-growling back at the new sparkling, who looked delighted to have found a playmate. Right up until a blur of bright yellow tackled him with a very real snarl and punch that didn't land. Moving faster than even the caretakers there could follow, Prowl was on them, separating the two sparklings with a strong hand on Sunstreaker's scruff bar.

"Sunstreaker, that was not an attack. Your brother was in no danger," Prowl said firmly, forcing the irate sparkling to look at him.

"But Sides is _mine,_" Sunstreaker protested, then pointed at the startled sparkling who looked a bit disoriented but no worse for the wear. "He shouldn't have touched him, he's _mine!_"

To the side, Jazz stiffened and straightened, but made no other movement. Sideswipe lingered near the other sparkling, scuffing the ground with his pede, watching his twin with only open curiosity and waiting to see what their sire decided for him.

"Sunstreaker." Prowl growled at the bright yellow sparkling, his field sharp but not angry, his grip firm, unyielding, without hurting even the delicate sparkling armor. "He is your _brother_. He is not your possession. No mecha _belongs_ to you. That is slavery. Do you understand?"

"Brother, not slave," Sunstreaker summarized it easily.

"Sideswipe as the same right to play with others that you do," Prowl continued with that same low, firm voice Jazz remembered from his youth. It was usually directed at others, but the few times Prowl turned his particular brand of disapproval on him Jazz had cowered without really understanding why. It wasn't fear for his safety, but fear of loosing the respect and care of the one mecha he all but worshiped. "That you chose to not play with others does not take away his option to do so."

"But he's my brother," Sunstreaker objected, looking frantically between Sideswipe, Prowl and Jazz for _someone_ to understand.

With a gust of air out his vents Prowl knelt to be optic level with the distressed sparkling. "Sunstreaker." He got the sparkling to look at him. "It is important that you allow your brother to be his own mech and make his own choices. Protect him, yes, but only when he is in actual danger."

"Yes, creator," Sunstreaker dropped his optics in surrender, though no one believed it was really over.

Prowl nodded, accepting the temporary victory. "Now, do you know why you should not attack another mecha?"

"It's bad manners?" the sparkling took a good guess.

"It can also get you in trouble with mecha I cannot protect you from," Prowl said.

Sunstreaker nodded, looking very uncomfortable. "I understand," he said.

"Me too," Sideswipe said. "Can Sunny come play now? He didn't mean it."

"He knew before moving that assault is unacceptable," Prowl explained to the red twin. "He will have a time out just as you did."

"I'll do my time and be back," Sunstreaker promised, subdued by the talk and just how serious their sire's field was.

Sideswipe nodded, unconcerned, and turned towards the new sparkling who was still sitting and watching. "Wanna play?" he asked, jumping towards him.

"Yeah!" he got a grin back as they tussled.

Sunstreaker's engine growled again, but he went to the wall and sat facing it quietly.

"Wow," Pica said as Prowl came back after giving a nod of acknowledgement to the caretakers who had watched the entire exchange very closely. "Protective little sparkling."

"Very," Jazz agreed, frowning as he watched Sunstreaker.

"It is the first time they have interacted with others their own age," Prowl added. "He will learn how to temper his possessiveness."

"I'll have to try that calm consistency stuff," Pica said, grinning. "Better results than I usually have when I'm trying to get my cousin to listen."

"It's effective if you can do it," Jazz said, finally looking away from his creation and watching after Sideswipe, who was running with his new friend, arms outstretched, in a game of chase. "I usually get roped into whatever they're playing, myself."

"Heh. Me too," the mechling agreed.

"You're both young," Prowl gave a slight smile. "Patience comes with age, experience and a great deal of practice."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

They stopped at a public washracks on the way home to get both sparklings clean from the long, exciting orn that neither of them could stop chattering about, having apparently forgotten the few small mishaps, but once they were home, the chattering quickly gave way into drooped frames and dimmed optics and they were tucked away into recharge. Jazz watched, leaning against the wall, as Prowl stroked each of their helms, then stood and looked at his mate.

Jazz sighed and wordlessly went into their berthroom and sat down, dataport spiraled open. Prowl sat next to him and pulled him close, his field warm and gentle, as was the kiss as he plugged in.

Jazz sagged against him, feeling worn out and stressed. ~I'm failing as a creator,~ he said. ~Aren't I.~

~It's not coming easily for you,~ Prowl only partially agreed as he held his love close, supporting him as he moved through the younger mech's processors, checking and confirming what he suspected. ~It likely never will with the twins. You are not failing, however. You are still trying, and you want to love them despite the difficulties and fears.~

~They're just so...they're-~ Jazz said, searching for the right way to describe it. ~I feel like if I could just _feel_ them it would be all right, I loved them so much when I could feel their sparks, I miss that,~ he sighed.

~They remind you of him. You're terrified that our influence won't counter his,~ Prowl spelled it out gently. ~You can't bring yourself to trust that they are innocent sparklings and far more of us than him.~

~Even he was a sparkling once,~ Jazz said, shuddering. ~And you can't be taught to _love_ pain like that, the things he got off on, it was spark deep, and he's in _them!_~

~As are you. Far, far more of you.~ Prowl reminded him. ~My coding plays no small part in them too. Try not to condemn them before they do more than act like normal sparklings. Even you lashed out on occasion in the first few vorns.~

~I know I'm in them,~ Jazz whispered, lifting his optics to his mate. ~That isn't...much of a comfort.~ He shook his head. ~Sparklings, they're just normal sparklings, just that,~ he repeated.

~The mech who sparked them was the terror of your existence for a vorn, and still a menace to us,~ Prowl murmured. ~I know. I have also seen amazing mecha come of bad creators, and terrible mecha come of good ones.~

Jazz nodded. ~And we'll never teach them what he was taught. They'll never know that kind of life. And they're smart, they're _so_ smart.~ He smiled at Prowl. ~Your influence.~

~And yours,~ Prowl kiss him affectionately. ~You're not shy in the processor power. They have your looks though, more than mine.~

~Are you kidding?~ Jazz asked, nuzzling back. ~Sunstreaker will have that same strong beauty as you,~ he said, running his fingers down the sides of Prowl's face.

~Sideswipe has your wonderful warmth, and your features,~ Prowl leaned into a kiss that grew heated. ~He takes after you so much it is a joy to watch. Just as it is a joy to see that I influenced Sunstreaker enough that he displays some of my traits.~

Jazz grinned against him. ~Well, you were very dedicated about influencing,~ he teased. ~I was surprised my valve didn't just wear right through.~ He shifted, moving up onto his knees and sliding into his lover's lap, nudging their pelvises together. ~Maybe you had better make sure it's still working though.~

~As you wish, my lovely,~ Prowl rumbled as he let his spike slide free. ~I want to play with your wings while I fill you,~ he nudged his mate to kneel, hands and knees, on the berth.

Jazz purred and settled there, bent forward, aft lifted up and valve exposed for his mate. ~I am growing to love doorwings,~ he said. ~They give you such a good grip to hold while you frag me.~

~And they give a lot of lovely pleasure,~ Prowl rumbled and slammed forward, driving their interface arrays flush with a single thrust and holding there, relishing the way his lover moaned and opened for him just enough to allow him to enter. "So tight, so very good," he moaned, always remembering how much his lover enjoyed his voice. "So perfect."

"All for you," Jazz purred, squirming his hips back and stretching his arms out, flexing his fingers into the berth and arching his back. "Mmm, just like that, lover," he gasped as Prowl drove in again and squeezed the edges of his doorwings in his fingers. "Aah, you always know _just_ how."

"I have studied you hard," Prowl grunted as he thrust, deep and hard without letting attention to Jazz's doorwings slip. "Worth every moment to hear you say that. You're worth every effort."

"Hopefully it hasn't been _real_ effort," Jazz moaned, pressing his helm to the berth and rippling his valve around his lover, trying to give back as much pleasure as he was receiving. "I'd like to think 'facing me is-mmm, oh, so good right there, _yes_," he shivered, losing his trail of thought, distracted by the seeking, pinching fingers moving over sensitive plating.

Over the hardline, he felt how good it was for Prowl, physically and mentally, just as Prowl could feel what Jazz did. It wasn't a spark merge, but with so many firewalls lowered it was incredibly intimate.

"It is pure pleasure," Prowl promised, groaning at the rush coming at him from all sides. "You are pure pleasure," he added as he drove into his mate, responding to Jazz's desire to be _taken_ on a deep level of his coding.

"So are you," Jazz managed, engines starting to shudder and whine as the motion and friction made them rev harder and harder. He tried to force himself to slow, to keep the energy levels back, to enjoy this for longer, but he only managed a scant handful of kliks before small shocks were jumping between their frames and he moaned deeply. He pushed back against every drive, valve shivering around Prowl, lost to the rich, intoxicating wash of his lover's voice. "Love, _lover_," he gasped suddenly as he felt the energy buildup reaching its peak. "Close, close, just a little-a little-_ah!_" he cried, and his frame seized up, joints locking together and plating shuddering with the rush of charge that moved over him and fed right back into Prowl over the hardline.

It wasn't anything Prowl resisted and he willingly gave the couple more thrusts and roared. Energy jumped between them as highly charged transfluid burst into Jazz's valve, lighting up entirely new sensors. It was all fed in a loop, driving them into a secondary overload, then a third, before the charge was finally spent and Prowl slumped forward.

~Forgot how amazing it was when hardlined,~ Prowl murmured.

~Prowler, baby,~ Jazz purred, still shivering, plating loose and venting out heat. ~If you can pick yourself up I'd be more than happy to remind you again, and this time the other way 'round.~

A deep shiver and blinding flare of desire blasted across the hardline at the suggestion and Prowl found the coordination and energy to move. "You treat me so good, my Lord." He exposed his valve and sank down, chest to the berth, hips in the air, in much the same display that jazz had given him. "Please, please take me, fill me, show me once again why I am your whore."

"And such a good whore," Jazz breathed, pushing himself up and running his fingertips right down Prowl's back strut, pausing to caress and circle the joints, letting his other hand take its time exploring the planes of the closest doorwing. He shifted back and moaned softly as his spike extended, awed as he always was by the sight of his bared lover, spark throbbing with the reality that this was _his_, craving this just as much as he craved being used by the same mech. "My beautiful pet," he murmured, hands finally reaching Prowl's aft as he settled behind him. He gripped his lover's hips, tugged back, rubbing his tip in a slow circle through slick platelets, then without warning, drove himself in.

The first tight, gripping cycle had Jazz shuddering and bending forward over Prowl, groaning as he pushed and felt the echoes of his own spike over the hardline as pleasure washed over his mate. It would never cease to amaze him how Prowl could go from dominating to submissive so quickly, but he was always grateful for it and the way it helped satisfy two deeply-encoded sides of him, the subordinate mate and the dominant Lord.

"So good, such a perfect stretch, like I was made just for you," Prowl moaned, his valve rippling and squeezing around the thickly ruffled spike.

"You were," Jazz moaned. "Oh you absolutely were, and you waited for me before you even knew I would exist." He pressed his mouth to his lover's spine, x-venting hotly and running his glossa up over the struts, sucking on them. ~And I will have your spark, I will have _you_, and you will have me, all before his broken frame.~

"Yes," Prowl moaned deeply, the hardline blindingly bright in just how hot that image made him. ~We will break him, destroy him, and be rid of him forever. You will barely feel the break as my spark takes up the bond that should have always been mine.~

The answering groan filled Jazz's entire frame, engines revving sharply as images of the tortured and ruined rotor frame filled his processor. ~His greatest mistake,~ he panted, ~Was hurting you, and then teaching me to enjoy pain.~ The grin that crossed his face was savage and the shudders of pleasure that rippled through him went spark-deep, consuming and burning. ~We will overload to his screams, my love, to the scent of his spilled energon, to his _agony!_~

On the last word, Jazz's back arched and he gave a sharp cry, rocking forward and slamming into his mate, his transfluid and the white-hot crackle of energy both spilling into his lover. Under him Prowl keened, nearly screaming his own ecstasy as he was flooded in every way with Jazz's pleasure and poured his own back to heighten and extend their bliss until it dropped them both into a soft reboot and Jazz slumped against Prowl's back and Prowl slumped to the berth.

Jazz came back online panting, trembling down to his protoform as he managed to roll off his lover and collapse on his back, turning his head to meet Prowl's flickering gaze. "Intense," he whispered, reaching over to run his fingers along Prowl's jaw. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured. "Overload-hot and spent."

"Same with you," Prowl managed after rebooting his vocalizer a couple times. He squirmed to snuggle against his love and almost immediately began to shut down for recharge, the hardline still connected, giving them both the welcome sense of contentment, safety, and peace.


	23. Breaking a Family

Starcrossed 23: Breaking a Family  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few metacycles, Jazz and Prowl managed to find a rhythm around having two jobs and a pair of energetic and trouble-prone twins, but Jazz never stopped being tense around them.

In fact, it was getting worse.

The dancing and having his own employment and time on his own to burn some of the anxiety off had helped, and for a while, he'd even thought it had worked, especially once Prowl had had the idea of him hardlining with the twins at least once an orn to read to them. He'd been able to feel some of that closeness he remembered from when they'd still been nestled in his frame.

But even that was starting to be something he dreaded instead of looking forward to it.

He was tense. He found himself hyper-focusing on the sparklings and watching for any resemblance they might show to their spark sire, and there was plenty to be found if he looked hard enough.

Prowl was trying his best to make a good life for all four of them, but no matter what he tried lately, Jazz found himself actively avoiding the twins' presence as often as he could. But he couldn't avoid it all the time.

Prowl was in the berthroom, which had been transformed into something of a small office for him to bring work home with him and spend less time at the precinct that way, and Jazz was sitting on the lounge, watching Sunstreaker and Sideswipe playing.

It looked like a game of pretend with some kind of chase mixed in. It was hard to tell, because the two tended to talk over their bond whenever possible, but at least they were being quiet and Jazz could idly monitor and try to ignore the way he wanted them both _anywhere_ else but here.

So when Sideswipe broke from the routine they'd been following and ran over to Jazz, it was an unpleasant surprise.

"Carrier! Up! I wanna fly!" the sparkling squealed.

Jazz shifted uncomfortably as he regarded the unfamiliar-looking sparkling. "Why don't you keep playing chase with Sunny," he murmured, looking away.

"But I want to _fly!_" Sideswipe persisted despite the sudden unease coming over the twin bond.

"I know you do," Jazz hissed softly, and when Sideswipe still didn't move, a tension he'd been feeling build for metacycles _snapped_ and he was on his pedes in an instant, towering over the sparkling, a dangerous growl rising up in his engines. "I _know_ you want to fly! You _shouldn't_ want to fly, if you were _mine_ you wouldn't want to fly!"

"Jazz?" Prowl's soft voice came from the doorway as Sunstreaker tugged on his brother, trying to get him away from _danger_, even if _danger_ shouldn't be their carrier.

"I am yours." Sideswipe looked at Jazz, then Prowl, and his increasingly disturbed brother. It was the last that got him to take a step back.

"You're _not!_" Jazz yelled, and gave a deep, frustrated moan, shaking, not hearing his lover, not seeing his creations, but seeing pieces of _him_. Sunstreaker had pulled Sideswipe as far back as the wall and Jazz advanced on them, hands clenched into fists. "You _can't_ be mine, I can't feel you at all and you act like him and you want to _be_ like him and you're his, you're _his!_" he all but screamed, fingers snapping out into claws that were aimed to strike.

The twins tried to shield each other, though at less than a vorn old they were no match for an adult, much less an adult with a combat frame. There was a blur of deep blue and a heavy crash against the wall, buckling the metal as two well-armored frames impacted it.

"Get off me!" Jazz screamed, pushing and trashing under his mate's unyielding grip. He was unstable and desperate and unfocused, striking blindly, no goal except to get to these two pieces of his tormenter and destroy them, and that made him easy to keep pinned. "_Get off me!_ They can't live!"

Prowl struggled with him, clawing a dataport open and jabbing a connector in. He wasn't gentle. Any firewall that didn't drop for him was torn down until he reached Jazz's motor controls and locked them.

~Jazz!~ he yelled across the hardline as loudly as he could, trying to break Jazz's focus.

Jazz jerked against him, shuddering as he tried to force past the lock, then snarled over the hardline at the mech that was keeping him immobile, no hint of recognition.

Pain and sorrow flooded Prowl's field before he forced his way deeper into Jazz's system controls and forced a hard reboot, holding him in shutdown for a terrible eighty nanokliks before backing off and watching the sequence and reforming consciousness carefully. Ready to interfere, ready to block the boot sequence to make edits, Prowl held himself still, completely focused on his task.

Jazz came online feeling startled and disoriented and stared at his mate, _seeing_ him and feeling everything in his field, and then choked as recent memory integrated back in, which replaced the startled disconnect with horror. ~I'm...I'm myself,~ he whispered.

Prowl gave him a hard look through the hardline, then began undoing the locks he'd put in place. ~Stay still,~ he said firmly, the kind of order that he'd once given to younglings who had a lot to answer for once Prowl had dealt with the immediate problem they'd created.

"Someone needs to explain. Very quickly." A voice that was not a stranger but neither could place snapped both their attentions towards the open door to their apartment and the enforcer standing there, shock baton drawn and standing firmly between creators and creations.

Everyone was surprised when that explanation came in the form of a small red sparkling grabbing the enforcer's leg and babbling. "I did something wrong. I don't know what. Carrier got really mad, then Sire attacked him and we were scared but nobody got hurt so you can go."

"Sideswipe," Jazz said softly as the rest of the motion locks disengaged, and then faced the mech, wincing. "I-I have a, a glitch, and he triggered it by mistake. He didn't know. I didn't realize it was a trigger," he explained, his field thick with shame as Prowl cautiously unhooked the hardline, turned and stood. Both took care to move slowly and telegraph their intentions. There was no need to give an already edgy enforcer intent on protecting two sparklings a reason to think they were still aggressive. "Pantera didn't attack me. He only knocked me down and forced a reboot."

The enforcer's gaze shifted and Prowl finally placed him. He was a neighbor. Off duty, but of course no enforcer was ever completely off duty.

"It's only acted up a couple times, and never this severely," Prowl went with the almost-truth. "I won't leave the sparklings alone with him again this decaorn," he offered in exchange for the officer to go away. "I'm not going to risk my creations."

They both watched as the officer accessed their public records, and no doubt pulled their employee files as well, along with the comments various mecha at the precinct had about them.

"If this happens again, I will have to call in sparkling protective services," he said a bit reluctantly. "Once is the warning. Twice is a problem."

"I understand," Prowl said firmly, his optics on his creations and only just reigning in the need to touch and make sure he'd gotten there in time.

Sunstreaker apparently had the same thought as his sire, because as soon as Sideswipe stepped back from the enforcer he was against his twin, running his hands over everything, scowling deeply, ignoring both the enforcer and his creators.

"I'll talk to someone who knows coding," Jazz said quietly from where he lingered behind Prowl. "I didn't know it could get like that."

"I think that would be best," the enforcer said, nodding, took one last sweeping look around the room, and then left.

The moment the door had slid shut, Jazz shuddered and slumped against the wall, hand over his face, and Prowl rushed to his creations, giving into the need to touch and teek and check for damage. Once he was sure they were both unharmed, he left the twins to settle each other and returned to Jazz.

A gentle finger slid around the dataport that Prowl had torn open. "I'm sorry for that."

"You did what was necessary," Jazz whispered, face turned away.

"Yes," Prowl agreed with a soft sigh. "That does not mean I can not regret it. Let me in?"

Jazz nodded once, nothing else moving.

The click into the abused dataport was gentle, as was Prowl's entrance to Jazz's processors. It was in every way the opposite of their last interaction. ~Show me what happened,~ Prowl asked.

Jazz silently called the memory up, cringing away from it, and marked the moment Sideswipe had started looking unfamiliar, and then the moment when he had become nothing more than an extension of Vortex, and let the rest of the memory play uncontested, only stopping it once the data file corrupted at the very end after he'd looked at his mate and seen nothing more than an obstacle.

~That ... actually is a glitch. You weren't calling it wrong,~ Prowl said with a bit of surprise. ~Founded in software rather than hardware, but a glitch. Unfortunately I don't believe it's the kind that can be corrected by editing. I don't dare let a specialist look at you either, even if I thought they could help. Anyone who looks at this to fix it would have to look at the why.~

~I have a glitch that makes me want to kill my own creations?~ Jazz cried, moving for the first time as his head snapped up to look at Prowl, then hesitated. ~...What did you think it was?~ he asked quietly, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

~A moment of insanity, a flashback even,~ Prowl sighed softly. ~Not something that would repeat on a trigger. This one will have many triggers, now that it's integrated. You can't be alone with them again. Not until they're big enough and trained enough to fight back. Mid-stage mechlings at least. If not adults.~

~We...we can't afford that,~ Jazz said, at least as capable as his mate as doing the calculations of how much he made per metacycle, even if he was pulling double shifts. ~You can't be here all the time, they can't always go with you. Maybe...I can find something else, I can pull double, and-~ He faltered.

And almost never see Prowl. He didn't say it, but the thought was clear over the hardline with as many firewalls as they lowered for each other.

~No, we will see plenty of each other. It is the twins you will see very little of,~ Prowl murmured, grief and loss thick inside him. ~I will arrange for them to be raised by my kin. They won't be as free, but they'll be well-cared for and safe.~

~Prowl,~ Jazz whispered, shocked. ~No, you-you should go with them,~ he said, his voice breaking over the hardline with the rush of distressed static that surged through. ~You love them.~

~I love you too. They can do well without me. You will not.~ His words were simple, honest, and brutally cold. ~They may well grow up to hate us, but they will grow up cared for by those they live with. It is not uncommon, my love. Not for my caste. It was what happened to those I carried and those I sired. They will not be unusual for being raised by someone other than their creators.~

~This isn't the same as that and you know it,~ Jazz said, and oh Primus, was he _really_ trying to convince his mate to leave him? ~You wanted them, you've _met_ them and held them and know them, don't make me the thing that takes your sparklings from you, _please_,~ he almost sobbed.

~I can visit them, so long as they still want to see me,~ Prowl murmured. ~They can survive without me. You cannot. I can think of no other alternative.~

Jazz shuddered and gripped Prowl, then turned his head to look at the twins, who were sitting on the floor, huddled together and watching the creators with wide, bright optics. As soon as he met Sunstreaker's gaze, the sparkling's engines kicked into a warning rev. ~I'm so sorry,~ was all he could say.

~I know,~ Prowl murmured. ~For now you need to be in a different room from them. I will care for the twins until I can arrange for them to be taken in by someone else.~

Jazz nodded. ~I'll go,~ he said. ~I can sit at the cafe until my shift. Just...comm me when I can come back.~

~You don't have to go,~ Prowl offered. ~They can be in the berthroom with me. You can watch vids or music out here.~

~I think...they should be somewhere familiar right now,~ Jazz said, as still-active carrier coding flared up and tore at him. ~Whatever you think is best for them.~

~I want you somewhere close too,~ Prowl said firmly. ~You are not steady yet. They will be fine out here. You stay in the berthroom until it's time for your shift. I'll make sure they're settled before you come home.~

Jazz nodded and reached up to the hardline. ~Can I talk to them?~ he asked, brutally aware that he now had to go through Prowl for any interaction. When he got the affirmative nod, he managed a half-smile in thanks, unplugged, and stood, taking the few steps over to them and kneeling more than an arm's reach away. "Sideswipe?" he said softly, focusing on the red twin. Sideswipe perked up at him, hope easily readable on his face. "You can say no, but may I hold you for a moment? I won't hurt you," he said, as much for Sunstreaker as his brother.

Sunstreaker's little engine rumble in warning, but he didn't outright stop his brother from running to their carrier and hugging him.

Jazz gasped as he clutched his sparkling to his chest, and Sideswipe didn't protest, even when the embrace went on for far longer than he normally would have held still for. Jazz shuddered and pressed his lips to the tiny helm, kissing once, then leaned back far enough to meet his optics. "I'm so sorry I frightened you," he said, voice quiet and unsteady, running his thumb over Sideswipe's cheek. "And I'm so sorry for everything else, and I know you might not understand, not ever, but please know that I tried."

"It's okay, Carrier," the little red sparkling tried to reassure him. "No one was hurt."

Jazz smiled at him. "I know," he said. "You are an incredibly brave and smart sparkling and I'm very proud of you. Sunstreaker?" he asked, softer, looking up and holding his arm out for the yellow twin.

Sunstreaker regarded him warily, but eventually gave in to the silent encouragement from his twin and sire.

Jazz hugged him, not as tightly as he had Sideswipe, and kissed his helm, getting himself a suspicious squirm in response to the unfamiliar action. "You'll watch out for your brother for me, won't you?" Jazz asked. "Promise me that." He looked at Sideswipe. "Both of you."

"Of course we'll watch out for each other," Sideswipe chirped, though he was a bit confused.

"And I'll always protect him," Sunstreaker rumbled, though he was calming with the fields around him.

"Why are you so sad?" Sideswipe asked carefully.

Jazz sighed. "I'm sad because I tried to hurt you," he said. "Because if Pantera hadn't been here I could have hurt you very badly. And because I think you will be angry at me, and because I wish I could explain everything and promise it will be all right, but I can't." Because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to say that he loved them. "Maybe some vorn you will understand, and maybe you will be able to forgive me then."

The twins shared a confused look, and damn they were getting good at looking like they weren't talking over their bond, Jazz thought with a proud flicker.

"We do forgive you, Creator," Sunstreaker told him.

Jazz pulled them back into the tight hug for a long moment. "I am so proud of you both," he murmured, kissed each of them, then let go and stood, going straight into the berthroom. He closed the door, something unprecedented in their time here, and left the twins to stare at Prowl in bewildered confusion.

"Do you have any questions right now?" Prowl asked them, weary to his spark and aching at the painful choice he'd made with so little effort.

"Is Carrier okay?" Sideswipe asked quietly.

Prowl sighed and knelt to gather them both in his arms. "No, he is not all right," he murmured. He'd never lied to them and he wasn't going to start now. "The bad mech damaged him and we're still discovering how badly."

"You should get the bad mech in trouble," Sunstreaker said, his face in a very deep frown as he looked up at Prowl.

"I want to, but he is powerful. Far more powerful than we are. It is why we hide who we are," Prowl told him gently but firmly, keeping his voice low. "Punishing such mecha takes a great deal of time and planning. Centuries."

Sideswipe looked from Prowl to the door of the berthroom, confusion and the first hints of anxiety starting to creep into his field. "Why did Carrier go?" he asked. "He likes to be with you when he is sad."

Prowl let his doorwings droop along with the grief in his field. "Because he cannot be near either of you right now. We can't know when he'll lose control again."

"But..." Sideswipe said, and looked at his twin, then back at Prowl. "I'll be good, I promise! I won't jump or ask anything and he doesn't even have to play with me he can just watch! I'll be really really quiet, really!" He looked at Prowl with huge, pleading optics while next to him, Sideswipe frowned quietly, teeking his sire's field.

"I know you would," Prowl did his best to reassure his creations with voice, field and frame. "I know you can. But it is not fair to either of you to have to exist like that. You are sparklings. You should be free to play and enjoy your youth. Adult status will come too quickly. Play with me until it's time to recharge?"

Sideswipe sighed and nodded, not looking like he wanted to play in the slightest as he leaned against Prowl's chest.

"Can we read a story instead?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Sure thing," Prowl smiled at them, more than content to just hold them and record a few more memories while they were still here. "What kind of story do you want?"

"A happy one," Sunstreaker said quietly, while Sideswipe nodded and they both clung to the sire, unable to explain what was happening but knowing without a doubt that it wasn't anything good and wanting the steady comfort that Prowl had always provided.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Mortar lifted his head when his door pinged an entrance request. He accepted and it slid back to reveal Prowl standing in the hallway.

"Oh, I was going to call you in this orn anyway," Mortar said, smiling as warmly as he could at the mech. "This saves me the trouble. I suppose you know why, word travels fast around here, though I also imagine that's why you're here."

"Yes, sir," Prowl said and stepped inside, allowing the door to close behind him. "Arrangements have already been made so that Saxo is never alone with them. I am contacting kin and a few others to find a more permanent home for them." Despite the matter-of-fact tone, the agony Prowl was in was not well hidden.

Mortar frowned. "There has to be a better solution than that," he said. "Can I ask what happened, exactly? I have the report here, but..."

Prowl dropped his gaze before gathering himself. "Sideswipe's spark sire is a sadist. He had Saxo for a vorn or so, far too long for a mech barely into his adult upgrade. All Saxo can see in his creation now is that mech. They'll never be safe around him until they can fight back and stop him if he glitches again. They're barely a vorn old now. I can't protect them that long and keep Saxo too."

"Sunstreaker is in similar danger?" Mortar asked, gesturing to the seat across from the desk and setting out a cube of high grade for Prowl to take if he'd like it.

"He's extremely protective of his brother," Prowl couldn't help the small but proud smile as he sat down, though he didn't take the high grade yet. "He puts himself between Sideswipe and anything he views as a threat. That includes things that he is no better at defending against than Sideswipe is." He picked up the cube and fiddled with it without drinking anything. "I've watched Saxo's memory of what happened. He didn't even recognize me when the glitch took over. There's more than a ninety percent chance that even without Sideswipe there, Sunstreaker could trigger it. We invested a lot of effort into making sure we were both creators to them. It's coming back to bite us in the aft now."

Mortar was still frowning as he took out his own cube and rolled it in his hands. "Has he seen a specialist for the glitch? Something like that, something that developed post-adult upgrades, is much easier to fix than something he was created with."

Prowl nodded, grief and frustration in the set of his doorwings. "They said it could be fixed, but it would involve stripping pretty much everything from when the trauma began onwards. It's not much time to lose, not even two and a half vorns, but he wouldn't remember me, the sparklings, almost nothing after his adult upgrades. It ... it's a no-win situation for us."

Mortar's optics spiraled wide and he sank back in his chair, x-venting heavily. "That's...one worked in glitch," he said, shaking his head. He leaned forward, put his hand over Prowl's caught the smaller mech's gaze with his own. "And this is what you want? You would rather stay with him than keep your sparklings? I need to know this is your choice, not his."

Prowl looked up and met his gaze steadily. "I love the sparklings, but they will be raised well and lack for little. They will have a better education than I can give them and a future within an estate if they want it. The only difference between them and my first three is that I learned their designations and had a little time to become attached," he again spoke the unvarnished truth. "I will get over losing them soon. My creator protocols are set up not to grieve the loss for long. Loosing Saxo... he's far more my future than any of my creations could be."

Mortar nodded. "As long as it's what you want to do," he said. "You know you have Enforcer support behind any decision you make." He paused for a moment. "And you'll get to see them if they're with your kin, I'm sure. I have to commend you for being so proactive, most cases like this don't end so well."

"Thank you," Prowl relaxed, his field expressing his deep gratitude. "Planning, assessing data and organizing it is what I do best. I'm grateful that Saxo is willing to let me make the arrangements. This could be extremely ugly if he didn't want to give them up. I will keep you appraised of my progress on selecting their new home and when I will require a few orns leave to take them there and say goodbye."

Mortar nodded. "Take all the time you need. With all the work you've saved me on reports I think you get vacation time whenever you need it." He looked over his desk with a rueful chuckle. "Who knew that getting to be in charge meant so much desk work."

"The last precinct chief," Prowl chuckled and stood. "Thank you for your understanding and support, sir."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz left through the exit in the back of the club once his shift was over, avoiding the audience and any possible socializing completely, not wanting to talk to anyone, just wanting to get back home and curl around Prowl and try to slip into recharge without thinking too much.

He was walking past the building when part of the wall just stepped out and the familiar golden visor lit up.

"I'm going home," Jazz said, pushing past him.

"You haven't even heard the offer," Radiance chuckled. "What mecha turns down free high grade and a sympathetic shoulder?"

"The kind who doesn't want to talk to anyone," Jazz said. "Notice the suspicious back door exit?"

"Those are usually the mecha who need to talk the most, or at least get thoroughly blasted on high grade," Radiance countered, seeing the resistance wasn't as strong as Jazz wanted to portray.

Jazz hesitated, then stopped and turned back. "Thoroughly blasted?"

"I'll make sure you get home in one piece," Radiance nodded and held up a credit stick that had more than enough on it for a night of _very_ serious drinking for several mecha.

Jazz eyed it. "I'll let Pantera know I'm going to be late," he said, and sent his mate a quick ping before holding his arm out in front of them. "You lead the way."

Radiance grinned as he put the credit stick away and walked off, trusting Jazz would follow. It wasn't far to his favorite bar to get information out of overcharged targets, and he was sure Jazz had secrets a plenty to tell.

The overwhelming press of mecha in the bar didn't seen to phase Jazz in the slightest and he followed Radiance easily through the crowds until they got to a table that emptied as soon as the occupants saw the SWAT CO, and the high grade was there moments later.

"Someone's popular," Jazz said dryly, and tipped the entire drink back in one swallow.

"I earn it," Radiance cracked a grin and studied Jazz. "Just one question I expect an answer to. This time next vorn, will you and Pantera be in better shape?"

Jazz scowled at him. "Pantera and I are fine," he said.

Radiance cocked his helm. "You can't really expect that to pass muster. You're both a mess, and your sparklings aren't much better. I may not know many details, but I know things are hardly fine."

Jazz accepted the second cube and looked at it for a moment before downing it. "I'm not sure why it has to pass muster," he said, with a shiver from the energy rush. "Pantera is still doing his work, he's taken all the responsible steps with Mortar, and why do you care if everything is fine or not?"

"Is it really so hard to believe I might be looking out for you because I like you?" Radiance asked softly. "Not everything I do is about work."

Jazz's optics cycled in surprise and his field flickered with the same. He hesitated, frowning. "You hardly know me."

"Maybe, but I know enough to want to know you better, just as a mech," Radiance gave Jazz a gentle smile. "You've got a good spark, and it hurts to see you hurting so much. Both of you, but Pantera has a lot more support at work. I don't think you have anyone but him."

Jazz shrugged uncomfortably. "Never really...needed anyone but him."

"You don't have to need anyone else to find other support helpful," Radiance suggested. "Having a friend doesn't take anything away from what you have with him."

"Yeah," Jazz said, looking at the table. "...What do you know? There have to be rumors, right? About..." He waved his hand vaguely.

"The sparklings were endangered, and that it's not something that can be fixed," Radiance kept his voice low and even. "Pantera is looking for a new home for them. And whatever Mortar knows disturbed him a lot. More than a few rumors that you were seriously abused by your last lover."

Jazz huffed a laugh. "I hope you meant it when you said thoroughly blasted," he said, raising his fingers for a third round. "Pantera and I _are_ fine. That's...almost the worst part," he said softly.

Radiance hummed and nodded. "Not many have a clue about most of it," he offered a bit of reassurance. "Just a few officers. Most who have a clue only know that there was a domestic the other night. Not good, but nothing too horrible. That and Pantera is very protective of you."

"He's always been like that," Jazz said, and after the third cube, could feel it becoming easier to relax. "What... would you do, if someone loved you so much he was willing to go through the Pit of losing his sparkling to stay with you?"

"Thank Primus several times an orn for it," Radiance answered first. "Then whatever I had to to make sure he knew it and it wasn't a one-way street. A mate that loyal's almost unheard of." He swirled his first cube of high grade, barely halfway finished. "And get ready to be the one who made some sacrifices. He hasn't said much, but most of us can see it. He wants to be an enforcer, and he'll be a damn good one."

"He can do whatever he wants to," Jazz said. "I'm just...I know this is what he wants, and it's his choice, but...I can't help but think he would be better off if I were gone. And I know that's awful, and stupid, but I keep thinking it. He could have such a good life if he'd never met me. And I don't even know why I'm telling you this," he said bitterly.

"Because I'm willing to listen?" Radiance suggested. "He might have a good existence, but he wouldn't have the mech he loves so much to share it. For what it's worth, experience has taught me that it's easy to make a good existence. It's hard as Pit to find someone you love with all your spark. Your youth isn't helping you on this one. And, well, sparklings are gone in three centuries. A good mate is with you forever."

"...Yeah," Jazz said, shifting again. He gave a startled look at the server who put a fourth cube in front of him, then looked at Radiance, who smiled back.

"Thoroughly blasted," the visored mech said.

Jazz offered him as much of a smile as he could manage before taking a deep swallow. "I did try," he said quietly. "To love them, that is. To want them. I thought I wanted them. I think I even loved them for a little while, and then..." He waved his hand again. "Guess it doesn't matter."

"Do you think you might want to try again, without the shadow of his spark sire?" Radiance prodded lightly.

"What makes you think it was his spark sire?" Jazz asked with a defensive growl.

"Common sense," Radiance shrugged. "You were abused long term. It's pretty obvious. It's also obvious it's not Pantera that's doing it. So what can get a carrier out of an abusive relationship? Threat to the sparkling. The protocols don't tend to hold well after separation, but while it's still inside sparkling protection and self-preservation protocols line up in a powerful mix."

Jazz was quiet for a long klik, staring at his drink, before his gaze flickered back up. "What makes it obvious that I was..." Another dismissive hand wave and a dark scowl. "Pantera knows about it, I've never told anyone else."

"You don't have to," Radiance said gently. "Not many mecha are trained to see it, but to those of us who are, you've got every marker of serious long-term abuse. That you have such difficulty maintaining a bond with the sparkling you carried says that the one who abused you sired it."

Jazz gave a noncommittal hum, finished what remained of the current drink, gave a hard shudder, and straightened, the teekable mood in his field flipping over in a nanoklik. "Pantera wants to carry for us," he said brightly. "He's a natural carrier, he takes well to it."

"That he does," Radiance went with it smoothly. "He's an excellent creator from all I've seen and heard. An excellent mate too."

"He is," Jazz said, then grinned. "And he's excellent in berth," he purred. "Or anywhere."

"Of that I have no doubt," Radiance grinned back. "Even if I do doubt that many mecha know just how good."

"Maybe more than you would think," Jazz said smoothly. "He had an active youth." The fifth cube came and disappeared. "You know I don't think I've actively tried to get overcharged since my adult upgrades."

"Have you ever been overcharged?" Radiance asked curiously as he reevaluated just how sheltered Jazz's life must have been.

"Uh, as a mechling, kind of," Jazz said. "Wasn't supposed to, but, I mean, Sideswipe isn't _entirely_ a creation of his spark sire," he said with a chuckle. "And then it wasn't safe for a long time, and then carrying and then sparklings...no, not really," he finally decided.

"Well then, it's _long_ past time you get good and completely blasted," Radiance grinned widely and sipped on his own cube, still his first. "Mecha should do it at least once in his youth."

"And what better time than when my life is falling apart and with a dazzlingly attractive officer of the law," Jazz grinned. "Wow that kicks in fast."

"You've downed enough to drop Mortar," Radiance chuckled. "And I'd hardly say your life is falling apart, Saxo. You have a job you like, enough credits to have a good apartment, repairs and energon, and most importantly, a mate who loves you more than anything and is also doing work he enjoys. Really, what you have when the dust settles is pretty damn good."

"That's true," Jazz said. "It's better than getting gang-'faced and drinking Empties in the gutters to survive or something."

Radiance only barely controlled the shock from slamming through his field and mute his vocalizer before it sputtered. That was real life talking, even if Jazz didn't realize what he'd said. Instead he kept his easy smile in place and agreed. "Much better. It's sad what some mecha have to do to get by these orns. The gutters are getting bigger every vorn."

Jazz shrugged in dismissive agreement. "Yeah. So could be much worse. And maybe when the dust settles I'll have a 'facing life again."

"Stress can do that," Radiance said sympathetically. "It usually picks up when the stress settles. It's miserable in the meantime. Not a lot to do about it if you're exclusive though."

"Miserable being...um, an understatement," Jazz said. "Or an overstatement I guess. I think. Better than what it could be." He sighed. "I'll just focus on a 'facing life to look forward to. And Pantera carrying," he added with a purr. "And high grade."

"Yes to all of those," Radiance replied warmly. "It sounds like a good future, and I'm sure he'll agree."

"Mhmm," Jazz said, smiling happily. "'M gonna have a Pit of a processor ache, huh?"

Radiance chuckled. "If you can get yourself to move at all tomorrow, I'll be amazed. The first serious overcharge is always the worst, though the downcharge cycle is never fun. Still useful for forgetting for a while though."

"Now you tell me," Jazz grinned, letting his head fall back to rest against the wall. "Promise you'll get me home and not take advantage," he teased, but there was something very real in the request.

"I gave you my word before you had the first drop," Radiance turned very serious. "I'll get you home and I won't take advantage of you. I'm not into that kind of 'facing. I want my partners just that: partners."

Jazz nodded. "Thought so," he said. "Hasn't...really been my experience with most. Just Pantera. Primus I love him," he hummed happily.

"I know," Radiance smiled softly. "It shows every time you talk of him, every time you're near him, every time you think of him. He loves you just as much. I see it in him too."

Jazz just hummed in happy agreement, optics flickering a bit, and Radiance subtly motioned for the server not to bring the next cube over, and got an amused, knowing smile in return.

It took an incredibly long time for the actual distance covered, but Radiance did manage to get his overcharged charge back to his apartment, and the door opened before they even got to it. Prowl was there, stepping into Jazz's staggering lung for him with strong arms and a nuzzle.

"Thank you," Prowl looked up at Radiance while his hands stroked Jazz's back. "For taking him out, and for returning him. I'll be ready for his state after recharging."

Jazz purred against Prowl's neck. "Love let's 'vite Radiance over a night," he slurred. "He has these-um-hands, he has hands."

At Prowl's bemused look, Radiance chuckled. "I think he means the mag upgrades I have," he said, lifting his hand to show his palm. "And no problem," he added with a small shrug. "He seemed like he needed it."

"I expect he did," Prowl nuzzled his lover again. "Recharge well, Radiance. I'll see about getting him in our berth before he collapses," his optics held a knowing glimmer from when he was much younger, and from overseeing many youths through their early attempts at high grade.

Radiance nodded and gave the pair a smile. "Recharge well," he replied before leaving.

Prowl smiled down at Jazz and nudged him inside, guiding him to their berth and some badly needed recharge.

In three orns the sparklings would be gone, taken to Polyhex and likely to never see Jazz again until they were in their final frames, if they chose to at all.

Three orns and he would once more hand his creations over to near-strangers in a far away estate to raise. Only this time, he was doing it because he loved his mate, rather than because he had been ordered to and did not truly perceive the sparklings as his.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

"Where's Carrier?" Sideswipe asked as he fidgeted in Prowl's cab. They'd been driving for what seemed like forever to the sparklings, and honestly it seemed like forever to Prowl too.

"He's in Praxus," Prowl explained once more. "You already said goodbye to him."

"Why didn't he come too?" Sideswipe asked, not for the first time, looking out the window.

"Because his creator protocols are badly damaged. It is the reason you will be living in Polyhex. You are not safe around him."

"But I promise really really _really_ to be good!" came the predictable response.

"Does Carrier still love us?" Sunstreaker asked from where he was curled up as close as he could get to the interior plating, having been quiet for most of the drive.

Prowl's field reached inward to wrap them in his own soothing love, and how deeply he loved them. "No, I do not believe he does. The bad mech hurt him too badly. Once he could no longer feel you, he could not emotionally connect with you."

He felt Sideswipe stiffen and then shiver before he crawled over to huddle with his brother. "But I love him," he whispered.

"And we're not like the bad mech," Sunstreaker added quietly. "Are we?"

"No, little one," Prowl cooed. "You aren't like him at all. But Jazz can't perceive that anymore. He's been very badly damaged."

Sunstreaker hummed quietly, thoughtful, and Sideswipe sighed. After a moment, Sunstreaker lifted his head back up. "Will you stay with us? We want you to stay with us."

"I know, and I want to stay with you both. I cannot," Prowl didn't hide his regret and grief. "Jazz needs me too much. You will be well cared for by Amberwave and I will visit as often as I can."

"But I love you," Sunstreaker said, voice sounding like he might be close to crying again, and Sideswipe made a soft sound of agreement.

"I know," Prowl's vocalizer gave as much emotional static as it did word glyphs. "I will visit as often as I can."

"You still love us right?" Sideswipe asked, needing to hear it. "We're not bad?"

"I love you both a great deal," Prowl promised them. "You are not bad. You have never been bad. You are wonderful sparklings. None of this is your fault."

"Okay," Sideswipe whispered, and curled up against Sunstreaker, who huddled against Prowl, silent and still for the rest of the drive.

It was an excruciating three more joors for Prowl before he pulled into the servant entrance of the Calidar estate in Polyhex. Mecha moved about their duties, gave him exactly one glance and ID ping and moved on without a pause. A well-run estate with servants that were respectful but not fearful. It was exactly how he had run his.

A moment of loss at what he had been bred, raised and trained to do came and went unnoticed at the grief of loosing his sparklings.

"We are here," he roused the sparklings in his cab as he pulled to a stop near an entrance for people rather than goods.

They quietly and obediently crawled out of the opened door and stood back for Prowl to transform, then stepped close and stuck near his legs as he walked.

"Punctual, cousin," said the stern-looking Praxian standing at the doorway, waiting for them. His gaze swept down over the sparklings and he nodded once, then turned, leading them inside. "We will speak in confidence in my office where we will not be disturbed."

Prowl nodded, silent, and let his creations into the well-maintained estate as he followed his kin. They passed through halls that were quieter than Prowl would have expected to get to the seneschal's office, passing right by the huge dining hall on the wall, where he caught a glimpse of the long table and all of the chairs covered in white cloth. Predictably, the sparklings slowed as they looked into the biggest room they'd ever seen and Prowl paused for a moment to let them look, Amberwave stopping a half-step later and turning politely as he waited.

"That's for fueling?" Sideswipe whispered, peering in.

"Why's it all covered?" Sunstreaker asked.

"That is the dining hall," Amberwave said. "It is covered because my Lords are currently away from the estate, and it is not being used." He gave the sparklings a strict look. "It is not for playing."

They looked at him, startled, obviously not having expected him to immediately guess their intentions.

"Amberwave has overseen many sparklings. He knows how little ones think. No part of the estate that is for the Lords to use is for playing," Prowl said firmly.

"Aw," Sideswipe said as they started walking again, giving the tempting looking room one more backwards glance.

"How do we know what is for playing and what is not?" Sunstreaker questioned a few kliks later.

"You will be thoroughly instructed and monitored," Amberwave said, palming a door open and stepping aside to let them enter before him. Prowl heard him keying in a lock code as he passed.

The office was modest, neat, perfectly functional and already had a chair for Prowl and one for the sparklings to share. Amberwave went around to sit on the opposite side of the desk and slid two datapads towards Prowl. "First and foremost," he said. "Legality and security. I have their official records from Praxus, and the permission from my Lord Timestone to bring two new charges in for fostering. As their current legal guardian, I need you to sign off on both of these."

Prowl knew the forms intimately, but read them anyway to ensure they were what he was expecting. With little more than a nod he signed over legal custody of his vorn-old creations to a mech that he had only met across comms.

Amberwave took them back, gave a satisfactory hum, and set them aside before leaning across the desk with steepled fingers. "There were bounty hunters here directly following your incident, poking around, attempting to gain access to me for questions. I wouldn't worry about them returning, we have many cousins," he added with a wry smile, the first he'd shown. "And I doubt they're keeping track of the comings and goings of servant-class younglings in estates. Their records pass every check I have run on them, and there is no reason to believe they are related beyond being age-mates, provided they do not give one. How well have they been trained to hide what they are?"

"Very well," Prowl said with certainty. "They have spent a great deal of time at the enforcer precinct I work at and there has been no indication of suspicion. They understand, as well as they can, the risks of being discovered."

"An enforcer precinct," Amberwave said, tone and field soaked with disdain, shaking his head. "You are being wasted, cousin. And all for an oligar playing pretend in a world he could never hope to understand."

"I know," Prowl sighed. "It is better than the use that oligar had for me."

"Indeed," Amberwave said. "A disgrace, to misuse one of our line in such a way." He looked at Sideswipe and Soundwave, who looked uncertainly back. "Have they shown any indication of being able to integrate seneschal systems when they are mature?" he asked. "Or did the carrier's influence taint them too much?"

"They both have the requisite processor power and quality of protoform," Prowl said. "Sunstreaker is more likely to adapt them to inventory, while Sideswipe is much more socially inclined."

Amberwave nodded. "Though ultimately unlikely to find true joy in serving, considering your spark creators and your carrier, we will see what can be done with you," he told the sparklings, then looked back up at Prowl. "Do you have any questions, or would you like copies of their contracts?" he asked politely.

Prowl paused, torn. He did want a copy, because it was his nature to keep all contracts and data. It was rooted in his very function, his purpose in existence. Yet he fought down that desire.

"It would be best if we do not have anything linking us so directly to where they are," Prowl said softly, his doorwings tense at the break in behavior. "If we are captured, it may take long enough to track them down for them to escape if there is nothing on us to lead hunters here. My memory file will have to suffice."

Amberwave's optics softened slightly at the tension and pain that he could read in the smallest tilt of Prowl's doorwings, but his own posture remained just as rigid. "Would you like to accompany us to see where their berths will be?" he asked. "It should be empty right now-" He paused for a moment to access the cameras to ensure that, and nodded his satisfaction when it was. "You could take a few kliks in there with them before you leave, and if you'd like, I could ask Raela to join us briefly. She is the sparkling caretaker."

"Thank you," Prowl's optics shown with gratitude as he stood. "I would appreciate that a great deal."

Amberwave nodded understandingly and looked at the twins. "Come with me," he said, and stood and waited while they climbed off the chair themselves before leading them back through the hallways, only this time, going through the servants' network instead of the main halls.

"This is where you will recharge," he announced as they reached one door in a long hallway, and palmed it open.

Prowl knew what to expect, a simple interior room with six sparkling berths, an area for holding classes and playing, and very little else, like the one he'd been raised in. He'd been raised in the same estate as his carrier, which was unusual for his family, but he'd been treated as any other servant class sparkling.

"This is it?" Sideswipe asked, looking around.

"It is a standard environment," Amberwave said. "If you have any personal belongings, you may store them beneath your berths."

"We always share a berth," Sideswipe said, stepping close to his twin and looking up at the intimidating seneschal.

"You will each have your own," Amberwave said, and both sparklings immediately looked at Prowl.

"You will obey Amberwave and Raela as you have obeyed me." Prowl promptly pinged Amberwave the way he'd disciplined the pair.

Amberwave glanced over the procedures, found nothing unexpected, and nodded his satisfaction. "They will find very little change in Raela's disciplinary procedures," he said. "Although she is more..." He paused for a moment, searching for the glyphs he wanted. "_Permissive_ to the spontaneous nature of sparklings than I am apt to be. Though still within acceptable boundaries."

The twins exchanged an uncertain glance, fairly certain that was good for them, but not convinced by Amberwave's tone.

"These two are your berths," Amberwave said, walking over to the set and gesturing. "There are three other sparklings who currently live here, you will meet them later this orn. Hello, Raela," he greeted as the door opened behind Prowl and a femme with a friendly smile entered.

"So these are my new charges?" she trilled with warm excitement and walked up to the pair. "Welcome to the Calidar estate, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe." She knelt and greeted them correctly, looking at each sparkling to show that she knew which was which.

::Raela, I brought a few of their toys, if it is permissible. I can leave them in the general bin or theirs,:: Prowl commed her privately.

::They may have their own toys,:: her tone was a smile, since her focus remained on her charges.

Sunstreaker was regarding her warily but Sideswipe chirped an equally warm, "Thank you, Raela."

"You are very welcome," she smiled at him. "How are you liking it here?"

They drooped simultaneously. "It's nice," Sideswipe said reluctantly, kicking at the ground. "Not like home. I miss Carrier."

Raela stroked her thumb over the top of his head soothingly. "Don't worry, no one will ask you to feel at home here any sooner than you're ready," she said, then looked at Sunstreaker, who looked back silently. ::Anything I should know about them?:: she asked Prowl.

::They are hyper-protective of each other and Sunstreaker is more than mildly possessive of Sideswipe. He knows he should not act on it. Sunstreaker is as introverted as Sideswipe is extroverted and he tends to let Sideswipe do the talking.:: Prowl explained smoothly and databurst her the full file he had prepared. ::Sideswipe will warm up to everyone and the situation much faster than Sunstreaker, though Sunstreaker is likely to adapt more quickly on an emotional level so long as Sideswipe is there. Sunstreaker is the smarter, more creative one, but Sideswipe is more likely to think up ways to get into trouble, unintentional and otherwise. Their sparks are good and they want to please, but they are vorn old sparklings.::

::That is very good to know,:: Raela said, her warm smile at the pair never faltering as she processed and integrated that into her knowledge of them. "I know it may take some time, but I want you to know you can trust me with anything," she said. "Above all, I want you to be safe and happy here. I have to go back to the other sparklings now, and you may stay in this room, or come join us if you'd like, just send me a comm and I will come get you. That door," she said, pointing at the entrance, "Will only open to me, Amberwave, and a few others you will meet later. You'll get a better idea of our ornly schedule tomorrow, but for today I'd just like you to relax as much as you can, okay?"

They nodded together. Raela took another moment to smile and rub Sideswipe's shoulder comfortingly before she rose. "Do you have any questions before I go?" she asked Prowl.

"No," he said quietly, managing to maintain a professional air by only the slimmest of margins. "Thank you for tending to them when I cannot."

"They will be well cared for here," she assured him, gave a nod to Amberwave, who nodded back, and left.

"Would you like some time?" Amberwave asked gently. "I will remain in the hall to show you out whenever you are ready, though I believe soonest would be best for everyone."

"Yes," Prowl nodded, canting his doorwings in thanks. He didn't wait for Amberwave to leave to go to his creations and kneel, offering his arms.

They ran immediately into them, pressing tightly against him and clinging to his armor. Behind him, Prowl heard the door open and close, and paid it no more attention as Sunstreaker pressed his face to his chest and shivered unhappily.

"Can you stay longer?" the yellow twin asked. "I don't want you to go."

"I do not wish to leave you," Prowl admitted, keeping very quiet the knowledge that his grief would fade within a few orns, and without further contact he would not recognize them as anyone special within the vorn. What he said was the truth in this moment and that was all the pair needed to know. "I must leave tonight. I have a few kliks left, then you must look to Raela and Amberwave." He lowered his helm, his field expressing his full grief that he could not make things work. "I will visit as often as I can."

"Maybe you could live here too," Sunstreaker said hopefully.

"No 'cause Carrier needs him," Sideswipe corrected.

"He tried to hurt you," Sunstreaker growled quietly.

Sideswipe scowled at his brother as the argument shifted internal, one they'd doubtlessly had many times before this judging from the lack of surprise in either of their fields. It lasted less than a klik, and then Sunstreaker sighed and Sideswipe looked at his brother sadly before hugging him. "Creator will visit," he promised. "And I'll be here."

"Yes," Prowl promised them. "No one is going to try and separate you. You need each other more than you need me."

"But," Sunstreaker said quietly, then sighed. It had all been said before. He huddled into his sire's arms and his twin's embrace, quivering and silent for as many kliks as Prowl would allow him.


	24. Insanity Met

Starcrossed 24: Insanity Met  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz got back from work and walked inside, then stopped and looked around their apartment, frowning. Prowl had left with the twins earlier that orn and wasn't going to be back for another four. He'd already gathered everything belonging to the sparklings, every small cube of energon, every blanket, every toy they hadn't taken with them, and donated what he could, incinerating the rest.

It was clean.

It was _empty._ He hadn't realized how much space the twins had taken up until every trace of them had been removed, driven by the frantic need to have reminders of them out of his life. The less he thought about them, the less guilty he felt, and the less his still-active creator protocols tore at him as a failure. It didn't seem fair, he thought with a bitter smirk, that Vortex could render him incapable of loving or accepting his own sparklings, without fully breaking his need to be a creator.

So he'd scoured the apartment of every trace of the sparklings. But this silent emptiness... it was louder than anything. The empty window seat, the missing toy bin, the walls that were stripped of the artwork Sunstreaker had so enjoyed creating for his creators, all of it _screaming_ at him that he'd failed, utterly and completely. There was no way he was going to recharge in here tonight. He would find somewhere else, possibly see if he could track down Radiance or curl up in an alley if it came to that, but until Prowl was back, it was not going to be _here_.

His blaster was already in his subspace-that habit hadn't broken since Simfur-so there was nothing else he needed to grab once he had a few cubes tucked away as well. He looked over the empty walls once more, shook his head, and was gone.

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Jazz hadn't been able to find the SWAT commander and the night was almost halfway gone, leaving him wandering around through areas of the city he'd never been in before. Stupid, easily, but he wasn't in a mood to care. He paused at an alley and looked down, seeing the unmistakable shape and movement of a buymech on its knees in the filth, and his gaze sharpened. He couldn't reach Vortex, but he could do something else in the meantime. He'd been in alleys like this before, he knew just which mecha to look for.

They were easy to find, prowling the ways, looking into the dark corners for the optics that would brighten and look away at the same time. Jazz found his first within kliks.

"Lookin' for a 'face, darling?" he purred.

The mech stopped, looked at him, then snorted. "Ain't no way I can afford a frame like that," he grunted. "Prolly want a hundred, huh?"

Jazz just smiled sweetly. "What if I told you I'm free?"

"What's the catch?" The stranger was suspicious and very interested at the same time.

"No catch," Jazz said, and held his hands out disarmingly. "I want it for my own reasons. You obviously want it for yours. 'Face me as hard as you want-and I mean _as hard_ as you want-and you're on your way."

Despite the lingering suspicion the big mech pushed Jazz against the wall and grabbed his hips to lift him, half surprised to find the valve cover open and ready, the scent of clean, fresh lubricant drifting upwards. Without any more hesitation he extended and slammed into that valve, moaning and grunting at how unusually good it felt.

Jazz gave a short, low groan, gripping the mech's shoulders for stability and held on, spreading his legs around the pushing hips and driving back onto the spike. "Just like that," he moaned, and let his head fall back, keeping Vortex in mind the entire time, recording the feel of the thick spike in the highest detail he was capable of.

It was vengeance, but he realized that his words were having an effect on the mech driving into him. He'd offered his valve for free, expecting nothing, and the spike was still trying to seek out his pleasure points. Apparently even in an ally, generosity sometimes meant something, as the big mech focused on his pleasure as well as he could, pushing and pulling with more intent than not.

It still took less than another klik before the low, rolling moan escaped and Jazz was flooded with thick, hot, charged transfluid.

The mech over him shuddered and Jazz held very still, enjoying the tingling charge it sent through him, cycling his valve in gradually slowing rhythms until the mech slumped and pulled out and lowered him to the ground.

Jazz regained his footing and relaxed back, looking up at the mech with half-shuttered optics as he reached between his legs, stroked his fingers through the mix of lubricant and leaking transfluid, and lifted them back up to his mouth, slowly licking them clean. "Got any friends, big guy?"

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He'd spent the first night in an alcove, crawling there when he couldn't find anyone else to take him, most of him sore, some of him bleeding, and with an odd, disquieting peace in his spark.

Public washracks got him looking fit enough for work and he hadn't even tried going home afterwards this time. He knew better. So the streets again, back to the nameless spikes and the poundings into the street, scraping plating down to the bare metal from the sheer weight of some of them alone. Every spike was recorded in the highest detail, one more chip tossed into the pile of what he would one orn show his bonded, and hope that it hurt that mech to see this valve he had once possessed as his own belonging to anyone and everyone who wanted it, down to the lowest, dirtiest Empty that Jazz rode after coaxing its spike out. Hope it hurt as much as Jazz had when he'd seen his sparklings' faces looking at him in terror. As much as feeling Prowl's agony orn after orn.

Something new to look forward to. A goal to work towards. But not the only activity that kept Jazz entertained all that night.

The idea came to him midway through the night, when the same mech was still revved up enough after his first overload to keep ramming into him, and Jazz fought down the scoff of impatience from where he was saddled around the thick spike. He was _bored_ with this one. His thoughts wandered along with his hands, and he brushed against subspace near the mech's hip. Instinct snatched his hand away-it was impolite to touch another's subspace-and then curiosity put it right back. The mech didn't react. Jazz slipped his fingers in, carefully monitoring, and pulled them back out, several credit sticks heavier. When the mech roared in overload, he got his entire hand in, groping deep enough to grab even more, and the mech still never felt a thing.

As Jazz staggered his way to his feet, gyros still a little tilted from the ride he'd just had, sticky heat flowing down his thighs from his still-open valve, he grinned.

Well now. Here was a fun game.

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The trend tonight so far had been on his hands and knees, which made it harder to reach back into a mech's subspace, but by arching his back and putting his weight forward onto his forearm while reaching his other back, he could just barely manage to get into their subspace without being noticed.

The mech behind him was gripping his hips and digging into the joints as he drove, and Jazz hissed quietly, pressing his helm against his arm, and _waited_. The brute would overload soon, and he'd see if he could get away with another theft before he found his next 'face.

Another grunt and low rumble and his valve was flooded with fluid once more, the mech behind him oblivious as Jazz slipped in, wrapped his fingers around the credit sticks there, and slipped back out in a quick, fluid motion.

The grip on his hips loosened, the frame sagged, and Jazz squirmed his frame. "Want more?" he asked.

"Hungry little slut," the mech rumbled and began thrusting again, eager to enjoy this fine piece of aft while he could.

"Uh huh, yes babe, yes like that, stretch me wide, that's right," Jazz moaned with no real feeling behind the words, but the mech didn't seem to mind. Third overload in, and this time he was taking longer to get revved back up, but Jazz has realized that the opportunity for a free frag worked better than anything else he did. The talking just made them hit _harder_ and it felt _good_ to be used like that. Good to feel like he was _nothing_, his worth only as high as he could spread his legs wide, and know that they didn't love him, because he certainly didn't feel like he deserved to be loved right now.

The third swipe into subspace as the mech overloaded for what Jazz could tell was the last he was getting out of him brought just a few more credit pieces back and he pulled off the spike and stood. Three overloads' worth of transfluid ran down the insides of his legs and Jazz looked at the panting, recovering tank. "Thanks," he purred, before he heard noise behind him and saw six mecha approaching.

"You the trick with the free 'faces?" one of them hissed when they were close.

Jazz shrugged. "Unless there are two going around," he said, looking the group over, having already forgotten about the mech behind him. "All of you?" he grinned. "Won't that be a workout."

"Oh, most definitely," the group leader, an unusually light mecha, some kind of racing frame femme, grinned and grabbed Jazz's arm. "Come on, we'll use you until you can't see straight."

She led him unprotestingly into the back room of a seedy looking club, dimly lit with a floor that might have been grimier than some of the alleys he'd been in, but Jazz still wasn't complaining. His inner thighs, chin, and throat were already caked with transfluid and probably worse, there was grime covering his knees, hands, arms, chest and back.

Dirty, useless failure.

"How?" he asked simply, directing the question at all of them.

"However we want, and when we're done with the, the entire club will want a turn or three," she grinned and tossed him on the sheet metal that passed for a berth. Her spike slid out, and it was large for her frame. Larger than Prowl's, though not the largest or cruelest he'd taken in the past few nights. As she got between his legs and thrust in, another of her crew grabbed his helm and press a textured spike designed to pleasure a lover into his mouth.

So no talking, then, but neither of them seemed to need any kind of motivation from him. He relaxed into it, cycling, swallowing, lifting his hips, rubbing with his glossa, and carefully moved his hands, feeling for the edges of their subspace, finding where he could slip into them when they overloaded.

The femme's took a bit longer, but once she leaned down over him, he could reach. The spike in his mouth was closer to overloading, so he focused on that as she pounded in, and easily swiped the few credit sticks mecha tended to keep handy and something unfamiliar feeling that quickly disappeared into his own pockets even as the next member stepped up and pushed down his intake.

Between his legs, the thrusts were speeding up and her panting moans were getting louder. "Shareware," she groaned. "Sweet shareware, this one."

Maybe it was the light in the room that made it easier to see his hands, maybe it was his unfamiliarity with typical femme builds, but when she shuddered and overloaded and he slipped his fingers in and then back out, holding a credit stick, he felt her hand suddenly tight around his wrist.

"You said free, shareware," she hissed, slapping his wrist down on the metal sheet of a berth and digging sharp claws into it. "You want pay, you ask for it first."

The spike in his mouth was suddenly gone as she reached down and grabbed his chin, turning his face up towards her. Jazz hissed softly, then smirked at her. "Who said anything about pay?" he asked. "That was supposed to be theft."

"Then you can find out what we do to thieves," she said simply. Her fingers reclaimed her credit stick as two mechs grabbed him to hold him still while she emptied his subspace, laying his haul of two orns of pick pocketing out next to him. "Even rather successful ones too."

Jazz glanced over the stack they'd taken from him uncaringly before he looked back at her. "Apparently not successful enough," he said with a shrug, then grinned. "Worth it still."

"How is that?" she scowled. The credits went into her subspace, except for what he'd taken from her first mech, the other objects divided up. One of the mecha that was holding him let go, allowing the other to pull him to his pedes and hold his arms behind his back securely. Even with Jazz's military grade hydraulics and armor it would take some effort to get out of that grip.

"Because I can just tell that you have some notion of making me regret it or something," Jazz said, giving a testing pull against the hold, getting a feel for it, not that he was going to try to get away. He wondered if he hadn't hoped someone would catch him all along, because part of him was _thrilled_ right now. "And I am _so_ going to love seeing the look on your face when you fail."

He was disappointed when she didn't seem angry, though the decidedly confused look was a good second option.

She shrugged and motioned to one of the mecha behind her. "Strutcrusher," she introduced the black and deep green bruiser of a truck when he came forward. "Shall we say one hit for each shannix he tried to take from us."

Strutcrusher nodded and came forward to land a hard punch to the lower edge of Jazz's chest plates. It wasn't enough to do more than scuff the heavy armor, but Jazz felt it, and felt that the mech had much more in him.

Jazz just tilted his head and looked at the mech, one optic ridge raised.

The next blow came at full strength and bent Jazz's armor in, sending a small flurry of warnings to his HUD and pain slashing through his neural net for the first time in more than a vorn and a half.

"_Frag!_" he gasped, prevented from doubling over by the hold on his arms. He shook his head once to clear it and gave a short, harsh laugh as he looked at the mech. "That tickled, sunshine, what's wrong?"

The answer came in the form of another full-strength blow, this one to the right of the first, following the line of his armor and building a row of serious dents in it. More warnings flashed across his HUD as his neural network _screamed_ at him to fight back, get away, anything to stop this.

"Nn-" He groaned, clearing out the warnings. "Well don't stop now," he gasped, and the next blow crushed plating and pushed him hard against the mech holding him. "Bet it would be even better if you spiked me at the same time," he said, voice catching and fritzing, and looked around the room. "Any of you have a decent spike, anyway?"

The leader's optics widened and brightened in comprehension. "Strutcrusher. Stop." Her voice was calm. "He's a masochist. He gets off on pain." She walked up to Jazz and caught his chin. "So who was your master than you only started looking for a new one two orns ago?"

Jazz spat in her face. "Frag you," he hissed. "I don't have a master and I _don't_ get off on pain."

She slapped him hard enough to bruise the metal of his cheek, which was absolutely full strength for her. She wasn't built for fighting. She stepped back and motioned Strutcrusher forward. "Finish him."

The big mech lumbered forward and began the systematic punching to break down Jazz's frame once more. He wasn't creative, but he knew where to hit to make it hurt.

"What's-the matter?" Jazz gasped between blows, laughing when he wasn't groaning. "You're missing all the-" A hit made his optics and vocalizer short for a moment. "-good spots! Come on, there's a nerve cluster right below-"

Strutcrusher slammed into it and Jazz's vocalizer spat static before he rebooted it.

"There!" he praised. "You do learn!" Another flickering gaze around the room. "Seriously, no one-nngh-no one thought of a knife up my valve?"

"That's torture, not a beating," the leader snapped at him, growing more disturbed by the moment.

"Then did I ever pick the wrong crowd," Jazz sneered at her, and then almost regretted it at the next punch that hurt enough for his frame to physically rip itself away from the mech behind him as he spasmed.

Arms free and on the forward fall, Jazz caught himself and lunged, jabbing his hand right into Strutcrusher's open hip joint and striking the sensitive bearing inside in a hit that had his full force behind it, all of it pushed behind two fingers that met their target perfectly before he crumpled. The big truck yelped, startled and in pain as he went down. Jazz got one more strike in before the four remaining mechs lunged for him.

He was the better fighter of the lot, he knew that much, and he knew how to drop a mech better than any of them, but at four and a half to one he was pinned again almost immediately.

He jerked against them uselessly, pulling at the dents and injuries, hissing as it sent shocks of pain through him like he hadn't felt since before he'd been forcefully sparked.

So long ago, before he'd brought two pieces of _him_ into the world.

"The frag are you waiting for?" he yelled at Strutcrusher, then found the femme, optics narrowed, and twisted at the waist, snarling at the look on her face. "What's the matter?" he taunted, and then _sobbed_ into his next cry when Strutcrusher landed a very real, furious blow.

"That is enough," came a new voice, one Jazz though he should know, and the blows stopped. There was a shuffling, low hissing words exchanged as his dazed systems reset and his optics worked to focus, and then the gang was gone. "Really Saxo, if you were looking to be punished, there are better ways to go about it."

Jazz groaned and finally managed to get his fritzing vision feeds to steady, then felt a sickening churn in his tanks when he realized who was standing over him. "Go away," he hissed, and rolled onto his side, pushing himself up on shaking arms.

"Why?" Radiance folded his arms across his chassis and watched Jazz struggle. "So you can get yourself killed? If you want to be _hurt_ and still be around when Pantera comes back, I can arrange for it."

Jazz stilled for a moment, then shook his head sharply, and immediately regretted it. "Oh sure," he said, hoarse with static. "Send a few thousand volts through me, hurts like Pit, clears right out, easy. Or _maybe_ if you have somewhat of an idea of what you're doing, you could hit all the pressure points in the hydraulic systems really well, you know, the ones that aren't the balance points but hurt _so_ much more than those do if you can find them. Sparkling play," he spat, and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the fluid there.

"Not my specialty, but there are a couple mecha in my division that would dearly love to give breaking you down a try," Radiance said simply. "When you aren't out to hurt yourself, you could be one of the better ones, I expect."

"I _never_ wanted this," Jazz said as he managed to get up to his knees, panting, and sent a scathing look over at Radiance. "What the Pit are you doing here anyway?"

"It hardly matters," Radiance's yellow visor was locked on Jazz. "I'm following a potential recruit. You've passed well enough to get a job offer."

"A what?" Jazz asked in a gasping laugh. "You've met me, right?"

"Many times, as various things," Radiance nodded, his voice and gaze steady. "Saxo, mate of Pantera. What is so difficult to believe that you've earned a job offer?"

Jazz stared at him for a long moment, then looked back down as he tried to get up to his pedes. "Doing _what?_ There isn't much of a market for being a glitched, would-be creator."

"No, but there is a very specialized market for mecha who know how to _hurt_ without killing quickly," Radiance pointed out. "Pit, there's a market for mecha who just want to _be_ hurt. A damn good one. My interrogators need to keep their skills up and I'm sure you can teach them a thing or two."

"Sure I could," Jazz said, and got fully upright, touching his badly dented plating and wincing. "Not interested, thank you for your help, go away."

Radiance took a step forward instead, invading Jazz's personal space and caught just how mortified the mech was. He cocked his helm with a flash of light across his visor. "What is there to be embarrassed about?"

Jazz instantly pulled the embarrassment away from his field, cringing as he looked down at himself and all the filth he was covered in, carefully tracing the edges of the sharply buckled plating with one hand while he supported himself against the wall with the other. "What is there _not_ to be embarrassed about in this situation?" he shot back, gesturing at himself.

"You know how to handle pain, you know how to dish it out, you have excellent field control," Radiance began. "So you've got issues. I don't know anyone who doesn't." He took a step forward and placed a hand on Jazz's shoulder, a light touch meant to comfort. "What happened to you, before you came to Praxus?"

Jazz jerked away, but more out of instinct than any real desire not to be touched. "What is this, more pretending to care about me so I'll tell you about myself? Did you _ever_ care? What was it, 'Is it really so hard to believe I might be looking out for you because I like you?'"

"Liking you is a prerequisite for offering you a job," Radiance told him simply. "At first I was looking out for Pantera's mate. Then I was looking out for someone I like. Now I'm looking out for someone I like and think could do well in my field."

Jazz shifted uncomfortably, teeked the honesty there, and struggled with himself. "...Sorry," he finally muttered, optics fixed on the wall. "Didn't mean that."

"Someone trained you not to trust very well," Radiance said gently. "Come. A medic should see to some of those injuries soon."

Jazz's arm shot up over his chest. "Rather not."

"What's wrong with your spark that you don't want a medic?" Radiance tensed, immediately going to the thought that Jazz was carrying again and didn't want the medic to know and try to save the newspark.

"Nothing," Jazz said, unconvincingly. "Just...don't like anyone but Pantera..."

"That is natural, but you need medical care," Radiance insisted, his tone just short of a plea. "We don't need to go to a hospital. I know mecha who understand that nothing gets reported. Ever."

Jazz looked at him. "Tell me you would trust any of them with your _life_ or I'm not going with you."

"Two of them," Radiance didn't even hesitate. "Whoever you're running from Will Not Find Out."

"...All right," Jazz said, then shook his head. "Pantera's going to kill me," he sighed.

"He doesn't need to know," Radiance offered as he led Jazz out. "He won't find out from me."

"Thank you," Jazz said quietly, trying not to limp too obviously as they walked.

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Jazz was most of the way into recharge, huddled up in the back doorway of a business that he'd kicked the previous occupant out of with a single growl, when a sharp tap in the middle of his helm startled him back online. His optics booted and the blaster he'd been holding in his subspace was out and armed in an instant, but before he could move, his wrist was grabbed and pinned against his chassis.

Jazz focused, and then frowned at the golden-visored mech above him. "Trying to recharge."

"You're not recharging here, that's for sure," Radiance said, and pulled him up.

"I'm not going into that apartment until Pantera is back," Jazz informed him.

"Then you're coming to mine," Radiance informed him right back with a tone and teek that would take no backtalk.

Jazz huffed. "Fine," he said, then smirked. "Hope this isn't a plan to get me overcharged and have your way with me."

"I doubt I'd have to be so sneaky about it," Radiance smirked back and let Jazz go. "Have you fueled yet?"

"Ah, no," Jazz said, shrugging. "That femme got my cubes when she emptied me out."

A cube appeared and was handed over before Radiance lead the way out of the ally. "Drink that, then a washrack, then you can crash in my spare room."

Jazz followed in silence for a few kliks, then offered a brief, "Thanks," and half a smile. "I'm fine out here, you don't have to."

"What kind of friend leaves you to recharge in an ally?" Radiance huffed. "Seriously mech, you really haven't had a _friend_ before, have you?"

Jazz hummed softly as he finished the cube and handed it back. "Um... there were the mecha I hung out with to keep tabs on?" he almost asked. "And age-mates as a youngling? Pretty sure those count."

"Only if they'd help you without wanting anything in return," Radiance pointed out. "You're badly out of practice at having a friend. Pantera's been your only company for too long, I think."

"Probably," Jazz admitted, then smiled in that happy, delirious way he tended to when he thought about Prowl. "Mm, but _what_ company."

"Yes, I'm sure he is," Radiance's look softened, warmed as he always was when faced with a mecha that looked like that when thinking of their lover. "Tell me about him, why you love him so much?"

"Mm, he's just... he's so..." Jazz hummed happily. "He's so smart, and his voice, and he understands me, and he'd do anything for me, and I'd give my spark for him. He's patient with me, he listens, no one else ever did that."

"He sounds amazing," Radiance smiled as they walked to a local washrack. It was simple and limited, but all they were going for was to clean the fluids and grime from Jazz's frame, not polish him up. "How'd you meet up? I want a mech like that."

Jazz quirked a smile back at him. "You don't remember the three dozen times we retold that story when I visited with the sparklings?"

"Oh, I heard. But there must be more to it than that." Radiance grinned at him. "What clicked first? Was it that first 'face, his personality, did he stand up for you against somebody ... rescue you?"

Jazz smiled to himself. "You could say that," he said. "It was..." He gestured aimlessly with his hand, trying to explain. "When he spoke to me, and then when he listened, I felt like I _mattered._ Everyone else, it felt like I was a possession, or too fragile to handle anything important. Or too young."

Radiance smiled and let Jazz ramble on about his love, only occasionally prompting more gushy sweetness as they got cleaned up and then headed for Radiance's apartment. It was a simple three room flat, but nicely appointed and comfortable with art and padding of a mech that earned more than even the SWAT commander did.

"Very nice," Jazz purred appreciatively, looking around, then looked back at Radiance. "And you've never found anyone to share it with you?"

"Not for long," he shook his helm as he watched Jazz check out the small living room with its notable lack of a vid screen but with seating for a dozen, if they were very friendly. "Several that thought they did, one that I honestly believed would work out, but no one stayed for long after they realized what being my mate actually meant. Long, unpredictable joors, not being able to talk about my work most of the time, watching me grieve over mecha they'd never met, the hospital time and minor damage I come home with at random. It's a lot of stress for most to take."

"I'm sorry," Jazz said quietly. "I can't offer a mate, but I can offer a friend, I think, if I'm not too out of practice at it."

"Thank you," Radiance smiled warmly. "That one's my room," he motioned to the door on the right side of the living room. "The guest room is that one," he pointed to the left.

"Thanks," Jazz said. "I think, I'd just like to recharge, if that's all right?"

"That's what I was expecting," Radiance put a comforting hand on Jazz's shoulder. "Recharge well. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

Jazz nodded, thanked him again, and went to lay down in the guest room, weary and just wanting to rest.

He cycled down, finding it almost harder to relax here than it had been in the alley. In a berth, it was harder to forget Prowl's absence and not think about why he wasn't there. But eventually, finally, _mercifully_, his systems managed to slip offline.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

When Jazz started to boot, he was relaxed and comfortable, warm, feeling so much better than he had when he'd gone offline. Sensors kicked in and for a moment, he thought Prowl was with him, but the field was different. His optics flickered online and he carefully took stock of his frame, realizing he was cuddled up close against Radiance.

"Morning," Radiance murmured and moved his arms from where they were wrapped around Jazz when he twitched slightly. "Rest well?"

"Yes," Jazz said, surprised when he saw just how well. Based on what he could remember right before going offline, he didn't think it should have been that effective of a recharge. "Um," he added, glancing around them and seeing only the simple but comfortable guest room he'd gone to recharge in. "Morning."

"You couldn't settle," Radiance explained as he smoothly got up. "I figured you weren't used to recharging alone. You settled as soon as I relaxed against you."

"Ah," Jazz said as he sat upright. "Yeah it's...been a while. Harder than I thought. D'you have work, or?"

"In a couple more joors," Radiance stretched, flaring his doorwings and settling armor. "You're welcome to stay here until your shift, and tonight, if you'd like."

Jazz couldn't keep his appreciative hum down as he watched his companion. "Since if I'm not here I'm finding the softest bit of gutter I can, and I think you might actually drag me back by force if I try that, I'll just say thank you now," Jazz said, smiling.

"You're damn right I'll drag you back," Radiance grinned at him despite the serious tone to the promise. "I like you too much to let you recharge in a gutter. There's a nice cafe in the complex if you want to get breakfast and a credit stick filled from your account."

"Yeah," Jazz said, stretching out. "That'd be good. Coming with?"

"Unless you don't want me at the table," Radiance nodded. "I need to refuel before shift."

"I'd take you _on_ a table," Jazz purred, standing and ignoring the mildly startled he got. "Lead the way."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

When Jazz got off work later that night, he was unsurprised to find Radiance waiting outside for him, and just rolled his optics in mock exaggeration as they started walking towards the road.

"Didn't want to come watch me dance?" Jazz teased.

"Would have, but it wouldn't have been worth the door fee for the all of five kliks I would have been there," Radiance explained, then laughed at the _look_ Jazz gave him. "All right, so it would have been, but I would have felt ridiculous. Is that better?"

"That's better," Jazz said. "Late at work?"

"Yeah," Radiance sighed. "Some freak with this...thing..." He waved his hand and grimaced. "There's that thing where I can't always talk about work again. I promise you don't want to know, even if I could tell you."

"I don't mind," Jazz said truthfully. "I've had enough of the gruesome and disturbing for one lifetime."

"So have I, for several lifetimes, but I keep going back," he chuckled and shook his helm. "Much as I grouse and grumble, I love my function. It's a wonderful thing when your spark enjoys what you do."

Jazz's optics flickered briefly. "...Yeah," he agreed, then shrugged, transformed, and followed Radiance back to his apartment, where he leaned against a wall, taking another look around, paying more attention to the details this time, finding he immensely enjoyed the way the other mech had arranged his living spaces.

"So..." he said, when Radiance had finished filling out a datapad and subspaced it again. "Guestroom or your room?" he asked, hoping there would be no objection, since he really didn't want to recharge alone.

"Guestroom," Radiance said firmly. "I'll recharge with you," he stepped into Jazz's personal space a bit and stroked his jaw line lightly. "My room is for a lover. The guest room is for friends."

Jazz couldn't keep his vents from catching. "If you'd like..." he murmured, and mirrored the touch, before his hand started trail down Radiance's neck while his other came forward to brush over his pelvis. "I could do a better job of thanking you." His gaze flickered down for a moment, then lifted back up. "I'm good with my mouth."

Arousal and desire flared, leaving no doubt he wanted it, yet the dark mech shook his helm. "Much as I'd enjoy that, much as I'd like it, your mate should be home tomorrow. I'd rather have your attentions when you aren't hurting and lonely, if you still wish it then."

The genuinely startled look he got in response told him Jazz hadn't even considered that he might turn his offer down.

"But..." Jazz said, while his touch on the neck turned into a careful stroke, and his wandering fingers moved further in, exploring. "I don't have any other way to thank you, not for all this."

"You have thanked me," Radiance drew in a steadying breath and gently caught Jazz's hand before it could slide over his spike cover. "You don't need to do this, or anything else. Friends help each other, Saxo. You needed a place to stay and a field to help you rest. I could easily provide it. That's all. I ... you're a very attractive mech, very desirable, but it shouldn't be because you feel obliged."

Jazz frowned at him. "I don't feel obliged," he said, and physically stepped back, breaking the closeness Radiance had created. "Obliged is not being able to say no even if I wanted to. It was just an offer. Fine if you don't want to," he said, shrugging stiffly.

Radiance let out a low vent of relief that his tenuous grip on his will hadn't been pushed further. "Good," his voice remained soft even as he frowned slightly. "Not being able to say no even if you wanted to is rape," he said slowly, but when the look on Jazz's face darkened dangerously, he held his hands up in apology. "Not a good place to go, then," he surmised, and glanced around, then smiled. "Ever played Sovereign?" he asked easily, motioning towards the strategy game he kept out on a table in the middle of the lounges.

Jazz glanced over at it. "I haven't," he said, and there was definitely an interested perk there as he looked the pieces over.

"I think you would enjoy it, and I bet Pantera would too," Radiance said, and put a warm hand on Jazz's back, guiding him over. "Come on, I'll teach you. It is way too early for recharge."

"Mech of the night, I see," Jazz said warmly, slipping easily back into their easy familiarity. "I'm sure that will come in useful."

"Long habit," Radiance grinned and set up the game board and databurst the rules and tactics packet to jazz. "Most criminals recharge during the morning, so I do too. What do you enjoy doing in your down time?"

"I practice a lot," Jazz said, watching the dark hands move for a few moments before he looked up with a grin. "If I tell you I taught myself how to hack locks and surveillance systems once will you put me in handcuffs?"

Radiance barked a laugh. "I'd promote you, if you were one of mine."

"I think I would prefer handcuffs," Jazz said easily, focusing back on the board. "Only if it was you doing the cuffing, though. If it was Mortar you could forget it."

"And if Pantera was in the room too?" Radiance's tone dropped to a purr. "Who'd you want doing what?"

"You have no idea how mean that question is," Jazz said, grinning. "So many choices, and we love power play. I think..." he said, as Radiance finished setting the pieces up and moved his hand away. "I'd want to be cuffed to the berth while he rode me," he said, completely unabashed. "And as for _you_...I want to give my glossa a workout on you."

"Sounds like fun," Radiance purred. "But why is it mean? We could have plenty of opportunities to explore every option we find appealing."

"Mean to make me think of just one and choose," Jazz said. "Have to cut out a couple dozen other scenarios. It gets way more interesting with a third."

"And so much more natural," Radiance added with a knowing wink of his visor. "Nothing settles the spark quite like a good triad."

"I've seen so many triads since we moved here," Jazz said. "It's kind of amazing. Bet that makes Praxians really good at thinking if ideas for three."

"That we are," he nodded, giving Jazz a curious look. "Is Pantera Praxian?"

"Mhmm," Jazz hummed, then glanced at him. "That's how I was able to get in for citizenship so quickly."

"Whoever did your cosmetic work did an excellent job," Radiance smiled and moved a piece, not really paying that much attention to the game. "Are your doorwings fully wired?"

Jazz glanced over his shoulder as he flexed them. "Yes, though they don't have quite the same motion sensing capacity, I don't think." He gave an embarrassed grin. "I ran into a lot of things with them. My frame is...mm," he shook his head, skimming the rules again as he tried to decide what to move in response. "_Was_ much smaller than this one."

"You're an excellent natural actor then," Radiance smiled as he watched Jazz. "It's usually much easier to pick up outsiders."

Jazz's answering smile was wry. "I wouldn't be alive if I wasn't a good actor," he said, deciding on his move and looking back up.

"Why?" Radiance couldn't pass up such a blatant opening to prod at the pair's past. He knew they weren't who they said they were, but he hadn't turned up a clue about who they really were.

"Oh," Jazz shrugged. "That's a long, depressing story. You don't want to hear that one."

Radiance hummed and focused on the game for a while, allowing the mood to settle. "As a friend, maybe I do want to know. Maybe I can help. I have friends and contacts that owe me in every city."

Jazz moved a piece, silent for a while, then when he finally spoke, the words were careful. "I would bet you know more than you think you do. I'm not sure what's going to happen now, without the sparklings, but if things change, Pantera and I may take you up on that."

Radiance nodded and allowed the subject to drop. He'd made progress. That was all he needed for one orn. "Do you like to go dancing at clubs? Not on the stage, but just for fun."

"Never been," Jazz said. "Always kinda wanted to go to one. They look fun. I liked watching from stage, at least."

"Maybe we can go out sometime, or Pantera will take you out, if you ask," he suggested. "I do enjoy clubbing. What about racing?"

"I'm not sure Pantera would enjoy that," Jazz said, then huffed. "Never raced, either. Primus. The sparklings liked to go to the tracks and watch, that's as much as I've done that." He looked up. "You race?"

"Every chance I get, Enforcer and civilian tracks," Radiance chuckled to himself. "I do a _lot_ better on the Enforcer tracks. Not nearly so many racing alts on it. Keeps my pursuit skills up and burns off a lot of frustration."

"I'd think you'd get more pursuit practice on a civilian track," Jazz teased. "More likely to chase a civilian racing frame than another Enforcer."

"Anything that much faster than I am doesn't get pursued the way races are run," Radiance chuckled. "Either a race frame takes over, or I use SWAT on it in the real world. I'd kinda get in trouble using SWAT on a race track. But something close to my own speed, I can test myself, and practice actual driving skills against someone who was trained for pursuit."

"I should go see what all the fuss is about some orn," Jazz said, frowning at the pieces on the board. "I keep hearing about how great Praxian race tracks are, feel like I should take advantage of that." He moved his piece and chuckled. "And I should _definitely_ take advantage of this affinity you Praxians seem to have for threesomes."

"I have no doubt there will be any number of eager volunteers for that," Radiance winked his visor. "Don't miss out on the gardens either. The Helix Gardens are the tourist attraction, and you really should see them once, but the local parks and public gardens are where the real local beauty and style are."

"You're from here, right?" Jazz asked as Radiance moved his piece. "You said you always wanted to do SWAT, so you grew up in this city?"

"Yes, sparked for a Praxian triad and raised here," he nodded. "Praxus is home. Do you like it here?"

"I do, very comfortable gutters," Jazz said jokingly, then at the raised-optic ridge look he got, chuckled. "Yes, I like it here. It might take a few vorns, but it'll be home. Especially once I get enough put away to decorate our place a little." He shivered happily at the idea, the motion going right out to his doorwings. "The artwork you chose in here is beautiful, by the way, did you do this all yourself?" He gestured around to the room and everything in it.

"The decorating, yes," Radiance smiled at the praise. "The art isn't my work. I'm artistically challenged when it comes to putting an image down, but I can look at something and know where it should go to look good. I can point you to places to get reasonably priced reproductions, if you aren't set on originals. Some good galleries that aren't too snooty too, if you like looking."

"Mm, definitely," Jazz said, and frowned at Radiance's move. "You said sparked, you weren't kindled?" he asked, partially stalling for time but mostly curious to know everything he could about this mech.

"No, but I was created in a sparkling frame and code," Radiance shook his helm. "I didn't have much more directive coding than kindled sparklings." He cocked his helm and hummed. "Less than a lot of sparklings that come from families with strong function ties. My creators were determined that I decide what I wanted to be to the point of trying to dissuade me from following their function path. Not that it did them much good, but they tried, and I respect them all the more for it now."

"They were Enforcers too, then," Jazz surmised with a grin. "I always knew exactly what I was supposed to be, there wasn't any choice in it. Your creators, are they still working? Have I met any of them?"

"Yes, they're still working, though you haven't met any of them. It's traditional to keep creations out of the precinct their creators work in. I'm of rank that it isn't an issue anymore, but I like where I am, and they like where they are. Mira and Brava are patrol and Contact's dispatch. All three were contracted by the city."

Jazz nodded. "That makes sense." He paused for a moment, frowning thoughtfully. "Do _all_ Praxians form triads?"

Radiance shook his helm. "Not all, but it's a fairly strong desire for most, at least for those who are all Praxian. We come from Seekers, and though we can't fly anymore, a lot of coding stuck. Aesthetics, social structure, pairing by threes or more rarely fives. Even the Praxian dialect is still audibly related to Vosian, and the wing language is too. They can understand us fairly well, and we them, even if we don't share a common language anymore."

"Pantera hasn't mentioned anything about it," Jazz murmured, almost to himself, gazing at the board without really looking at it. "Though life hasn't exactly been calm and settled lately."

"If he has the coding to want a triad, it would be very unusual to try for a third before you're steady and stable," Radiance said easily. "Unless it's some kind of spark resonance or someone he wants tries to court him ... which is rude, by the way, to try and court a mech before their first mate is settled ... I wouldn't expect him to bring it up for centuries yet. It's okay to drop hints that you like him, flirt a bit, but only enough that he knows you'd like a chance when he's ready."

Jazz's gaze flickered up to the visored mech for a moment, a small smile on his lips. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, then gestured at the board. "I think you're kicking my aft here, but I'm honestly not entirely sure."

The Praxian chuckled. "Rather solidly. You did well for your first game though." He moved a piece. "Now if _you_ find someone you want as a third, it's simpler, since he's the more settled one. You still don't want to court anyone without his permission, just like he shouldn't court or accept being courted without yours." He paused and regarded Jazz evenly for a long moment. "How do you feel about sharing him?"

"For 'facing, fine," Jazz said. "Neither of us is possessive like that. I don't think I'd ever be able to be with someone who was possessive about my frame," he said wryly. "For something like courting...obviously I'd have to like the mech, but so long as I did..." He hummed and shuttered his optics for a moment, smiling. "I _do_ love watching him getting 'faced," he purred.

"What gets you revved up the hottest?" Radiance leaned forward, his tone low and playfully hungry. "He is a looker, but you know that."

"Mhmm," Jazz hummed in agreement. "But it's his voice that really gets me, hearing him in pleasure. Just..." He shivered again. "That _voice_. Anything that gets him moaning."

"I bet that made you both popular and unpopular before you could afford a place with good soundproofing," Radiance chuckled. "He does have a nice voice, though I think what I find most appealing is his carriage. He's movement is smooth, he never slouches or is lazy with his doorwings, he's utterly commanding in that quiet way that's so rare. Like he was sparked to command and doesn't need to be loud to assert himself. He knows what he is and doesn't need to prove it. He's got that really sexy chevron above his interface panel too. It's so easy to imagine kissing my way down, following that direction."

Jazz's optics brightened and fixed on Radiance, game suddenly almost completely forgotten. "And he would love that," he purred. "He gets all gaspy and shivery. And he stays commanding, too, barely has to touch or instruct for you to know what he wants from you. Like you're just there for his pleasure. Would you like that?" he asked, voice low.

"As long as that's not what it always is," Radiance let his engine rumble. "I'm not much on having a set role. Much as I enjoy a mech who knows what he wants, I like being the one in charge too. I like going real slow at times, drawing the pleasure out for a joor or more before finally sinking into my lover. Other times I like it fast and hard with an overload that rushes up on you so heavy you can barely feel it coming before it knocks you out."

"He can provide both of those," Jazz purred. "I'll admit we have a tendency towards the hard and fast, but we're working on it," he grinned. "Maybe with a steady hand to help out. It's sexy as all Pit to get him all spread out and tease him until he's begging."

"I bet it is," Radiance rumbled eagerly before throttling himself back. "You've got one incredible mate. Are you as much a switch as he is?"

Jazz hummed in affirmative. "Though it took a while for him to bring that out. And I'm guessing you are too." He grinned. "Or maybe I'm just hoping you are."

"Oh, I am," Radiance chuckled. "This the first time he's been away for more than a shift?"

Jazz paused for a moment. "...Yeah," he said, wings lowering slightly, and he grimaced. "Trying not to think about why, yeah?"

"Yeah," Radiance reached out to grip his shoulder, his field rich with non-judging support. "Why doesn't matter. You don't much know what to do with yourself when he's not there. Do you ever go to recharge without a good overload?"

"Didn't used to," Jazz said, looking at the game board, and flicked his last remaining piece just hard enough for it to topple. "Since all this started...more often than not. ...Do you? I mean, not that..." He shifted awkwardly. "Never mind."

"I don't have a lover often," Radiance answered easily. "Even when I do, I'm too worn out to play as often as not. Comes with the territory and part of why it's hard being an Enforcer's mate. But just because I'm not going to 'face you doesn't mean you have to do without the overload."

Jazz thought about that for a moment, then smiled and rose to his pedes, slowly and carefully stretching his arms up over his head and rolling his neck before grinning at the darker mech. "Sure you want to go through the agony of having to look but not touch?" he purred. "Or listen, for that matter?"

"Go ahead, pretty," Radiance grinned up at him before he stood. "Might want to get close to your berth though, so you can drop when you're done. I'll be waiting there," he gave Jazz a visored wink.

"Why don't you tell me what _you_ would do if Pantera was here with a pair of handcuffs," Jazz said as he brushed past the older mech, purposefully close and with purring engines. "Be a friend, help a mech out, you know."

Radiance laughed in good humor and followed. He flopped down on the berth and grinned at Jazz, who stayed standing. "So many choices. I think I'd begin with cuffing his hands up by his neck so he can't touch and settle him sitting on the berth in front of me. Right where you are, I'd tell you to dance, the kind you can't get away with in the club."

Jazz hummed and let his wings quiver as he stretched once more, but this time, ended the motion by running his hands down the front of his frame, settling them over his pelvis. "The kind like so," he purred, optics dimming as he imagined the scene and slid his spike cover away, brushing fingers over the housing and teasing at it in slow circles until it spiraled open. "Are you a switch when it comes to your equipment, too, or just with control?"

"Very much with my equipment and positions," Radiance purred from where he was lounging, watching Jazz with rapt interest but no inclination to touch himself. "If it feels good and it's legal, I'm for it. I'm sure I can feel Pantera get revved up by now. Surely he's gotten the gist of my plans, smart mech that he is. So while you show off for us, I touch him. Just light exploratory at first, but as I find more sweet spots he beings to moan."

Jazz's engines have a hard, predictable rev at the thought of Prowl's pleasured moans and he let his helm fall back for a moment, rolling it in time with an inaudible rhythm, intensely aware of the bright, glittering visor. "He really likes the third joint down on his back strut," he purred, swirling his thumb around the tip of his spike as it started to pressurize. "Everything else you'll have to find on your own."

"And I'll enjoy the process," Radiance promised with a low, sultry tone. "I make sure he keeps watching you, though I doubt I'll have to check often. I'm sure he's fixated on you. He always is."

"Mhmm," Jazz hummed, backing up so he could lean against the wall, fingers dancing along the length of his spike, coaxing it out, running his fingers around each segment as he extended into the slow strokes. "And after you're done teasing him? After he's gasping and straining and desperate from watching me, and your touches?"

"That depends on how well finished you are," Radiance grinned, his optics taking in the very unusual ruffled spike. "But I think I'd shift him fully into my lap so I can feel that wet valve, so eager to be filled, and beckon you over to kneel and put that mouth to good use on his spike. Then have a little race to see who can overload him first."

Jazz gave a gasping laugh. "I'd win," he informed the other mech, then groaned as his hips pushed forward into his loose fingers. "Nnn...absolutely I'd win, I'd swallow him completely, make him scream and overload around you."

"I don't doubt it," Radiance chuckled. "And it'd feel amazing. I bet he's so hot and tight, and his overload's intense, knowing how much it gets you off to drive him there."

Jazz nodded, panting lightly. "And once he was all strutless between us I'd pull him off and swallow you next, taste his overload on you, give you the little push you needed to spill down my intake..." He moaned, grip tightening, optics flickering off and mouth falling open.

"Hot as I am, and fresh from doming Pantera, I'd grip your helm as I overload, thrusting because I know you can take it," Radiance's rumble deepened as his arousal built. "When I can unlatch my hands I'd spread myself for you, eager to feel your overload while I pull Pantera in for a kiss."

The heavy, stuttering panting came faster and vents kicked up a notch, catching on the sharp intakes and shivering with the rest of Jazz's frame. "Wouldn't...take me long, not after that," he gasped. "You know I've never...actually...been in anyone but Pantera," he managed, and whined softly as he imagined it, rubbing his length against his palm. "Love to feel him in me while I spiked you."

"I'm sure he'd indulge you for no other reason, grabbing your hips and driving into you, eager to feel your overload as we both work you hard, a reward for the show and for being with us," Radiance said, sure of himself. "I want to do that, to feel you between us. To be between you. To have Pantera between us. To watch you make love to him. To have you watch as I made love to him. To make love to you while he watches and talks to you the entire time."

Jazz's helm slammed back and he gave a sharp cry, unable to hold off his overload any longer at the last image, bucking into his hand and shaking as the charge rushed through him, sizzling beneath his plating and sending bright, crackling arcs through the seams. He slumped as it dissipated into the air, shivering and panting, and slowly released his grip on his spike, optics online again, dim and sated for the first time in orns.

"I think that did almost as much good as the energon," Radiance hummed with a friendly smile when Jazz's optics could focus once more.

"Possibly more," Jazz murmured, shuddering as his spike slipped away and the cover slid back. He managed the few steps it took to get to the berth and all but collapsed, stretching out next to Radiance. "'S been a while."

"And you have a very high interface drive," the Praxian said as he relaxed, unconcerned about the mess on the floor or the ozone still leeching from the frame next to him. "Recharge well, Saxo."

"Mmhm," Jazz hummed, curling next to the dark mech, flaring his field gratefully out to mesh comfortably with the other. "You too, thank you," he murmured, and slipped immediately offline.


	25. Home Again

Starcrossed 25: Home Again  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz couldn't drive home fast enough after his shift, with only the fact that he knew who was patrolling in this area tonight keeping him under the posted limit. Prowl had commed about a joor after he'd left for the club, right about when he'd started to get worried, to let him know that he was safely home, and Jazz was burning to feel his lover's field against his. They hadn't been apart this long, not really, since his adult upgrades.

"Pantera?" he asked as soon as he opened the door and stepped in, an uncomfortable mix of excited and worried as he nearly walked right into his lover. Strong arms closed around him and a kiss found his mouth, as warm and hungry as the field that wrapped around him.

The door closed behind him but Jazz was lost to everything but knowing Prowl was there and wanted him. He shuddered and moaned into the kiss, arms wrapping up around Prowl's shoulders and holding him just as tightly, _relief-love-want_ flooding his field.

When the kiss finally broke Prowl nuzzled him. "I'm glad you managed to keep yourself up while I was away."

"Not...entirely by my own will," Jazz said, fingers brushing lightly over Prowl's dataport. "We should talk. Are you all right, first?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Prowl flushed his certainty across their fields and drew Jazz towards the berthroom. "I will miss them greatly for a few more orns, then less each orn. Within a decaorn and a half I should be no more distressed than I am about the others."

"All right," Jazz said, nuzzling, and moved easily onto their berth, never losing contact with Prowl as they settled down together. "I'm here, for whatever you need, you know that."

"Yes," Prowl kissed him softly. "As I am here for you, love." He spiraled his dataport open, offering to let Jazz control the connection.

Jazz took a deep intake, cycled it through, and plugged in. He'd already decided he was going to share the last five orns, completely. He didn't keep secrets from his mate, he never had, he never would.

Although, he wasn't about to go fessing up to the stolen high grade as a mechling, but the knowing smile that went over Prowl's features told him first that the thought had been heard, and second that his lover wasn't at all surprised. ~You knew about that!~ Jazz accused, playfully hitting his shoulder.

~I did tell you that you were never out of my sight after you hid in the cybercat's den,~ Prowl chuckled softly as they settled in a comfortable embrace on the berth. ~Now, what happened that was so interesting?~

~Great, that means you saw my very embarrassing first attempts at getting overcharged,~ Jazz grumbled, stalling a little. Just because he didn't keep secrets from Prowl didn't mean he was excited about showing him this. He felt the concerned brush over the hardline and looked up into the beloved ice blue optics, sighed, and touched their helms together. ~I think it's easier if I just let you watch,~ he said, and pulled up the memory starting from when he'd left their apartment that first night to wander the streets.

He felt Prowl skim more than watch, catching the emotions, focused on the why rather than the actions. It was only when he reached the scene from the previous night when Jazz had jerked off to Radiance's words that the playback was slowed down and watched in hungry detail.

Prowl took another klik to process it all, order and sort it to keep the pertinent data and focused on one thing.

~You like him?~

Jazz didn't hide his surprised flicker that that was the first question asked. ~Yes... maybe. He... didn't use me. I straight up offered and he turned me down even though I could _feel_ how much he wanted me. And... he probably saved my life. I know I want to get to know him better.~

~Then we will, out of the berth, before we invite him in,~ Prowl murmured. ~I think I like him too, but you're the one he really wants. Have you thought about the job offer?~

~A little,~ Jazz said. ~I still haven't asked him exactly what it would _be_ and I think he's waiting until I go to him. There's part of me- Sometimes I miss-~ The thought faltered, the datastream stammered, as Jazz tried to confess that he missed _causing pain_, that he'd learned to love it beyond the construct and pleasing their tormenter.

Prowl's hands stroked him, soothing, calm, accepting, waiting, even though he already knew and understood. ~We are what we are, my love.~

It took him many kliks, but Prowl was patient while Jazz grappled with the thought. ~I miss the pain,~ he finally said, very suddenly. ~Causing it. Taking those mecha who would have rather you perished than lose their own lives and making them _hurt_ for it.~

A simple nod and hum of understanding greeted the statement. ~Given what Radiance said, and didn't say, I can guess at what he wants you to do. None of it's remotely legal.~

~But he's an Enforcer,~ Jazz said.

~He's SWAT,~ Prowl corrected, though he wasn't completely sure of the connections he was making. ~Barely one step away from Special Ops. What they get to do, what they can do, isn't always legal for anyone else.~

Jazz hummed quietly. ~More lucrative than dancing, though likely more dangerous at the same time. Though...there's an appeal. Beyond just getting to know Radiance better.~

~Longer, stranger joors. Between yours and mine if ... we might not see each other some orns.~ Prowl added. ~But he could indulge you in ways I can't.~

~Maybe the work could, I don't think there's anything he could do personally that you do not already satisfy entirely,~ Jazz said.

A warm kiss greeted that declaration. ~Perhaps, but you did think his ideas were worth exploring, and I won't deny he was right about my social coding.~

~That you find the idea of a triad appealing,~ Jazz said, cuddling purringly up to his mate and pressing back into the kiss. ~And how could I not find his ideas worth exploring? They were slagging hot ideas.~

~Only if you like both mecha involved,~ Prowl chuckled as his touched became more enticing. ~Which we do. We can invite him to dinner once I've been thoroughly welcomed home in a couple orns.~

Jazz mirrored the touches for a moment, then swung his leg over Prowl's hip and pushed, moving smoothly up and over him, settling into a comfortable, familiar straddle. ~He made a point of telling me it would be rude for him to court me,~ he said. ~And that he would expect centuries. We don't need to rush. Especially when we don't know if we'll _be_ here in a century.~ He nipped at Prowl's lower lip and ground their hips together, baring his valve right over his lover's spike cover. ~Dinner sounds nice though.~

~Agreed,~ Prowl moaned and allowed his spike to slide free, smoothly penetrating and spreading the perfectly positioned and slick valve. ~My apologies I wasn't shocked by what you did while I was away. I was expecting it.~

Jazz shuddered and gave a harsh x-vent as his valve clenched down around the familiar, welcome intrusion, bracing himself with his hands on Prowl's shoulders. ~I was expecting you to be angry,~ he admitted, rocking slowly. ~Knowing you expected it almost makes it worse in a way. Mmm,~ he hummed, frame _thrumming_ with the slow pleasure. ~Want you to know, I have no desire to be courting or courted right now, nor for a long time. But a visitor to our berth, when we're ready, would be welcome.~

~Agreed,~ Prowl moaned as he pulled his hips down and drove back up. ~You feel so good. I missed this so much.~

~Missed _you_,~ Jazz whispered, and stopped thinking about anything other than the feel of his mate's frame below him and inside him, his field surrounding him and tangling with his own.

* * *

Radiance was utterly giddy, not that he was showing it. He'd never expected an invitation to dinner so quickly. Barely a decaorn after Prowl's return he was talking to the pair socially over dinner. Small talk, trading little tidbits about life and experiences and trying not to give too much away. As frustrating as the pair were about giving up a single designation not in their official records, Radiance had to applaud their ability to pull it off. Of course it helped that over dinner Prowl did almost all the talking. Jazz would chime in now and then, but it was mostly the smarter, more organized mech who spoke.

By the time three sweet pastries were set out, Radiance had begun to reassess just which one he wanted the most. He knew Jazz was more valuable for the darker work that was hard to find mecha for, but Prowl had a processor that just floored him, and that was even with the mech actively trying to hide exactly how powerful it was. If Prowl hadn't been so well adjusted and adaptable to new situations and environments, Radiance would have suspected him for a pre-prog, and he still hadn't quite made up his mind on that point.

"I know you met in Simfur," he said. "And started out in Praxus, but where between those two? You can't tell me you just decided to leave _this_ city for that hole in the ground."

Prowl chuckled before nibbling on a pastry, taking his time to organize the answer he didn't need any time to organize. "There isn't a city I haven't lived in, at least briefly. Some, like Iacon, Crystal City and Vos I would happy return to for a time. Others, not so much."

"Like Simfur," Jazz added, smiling wryly, gaze on his mate.

"And Kaon," Prowl's doorwings shuddered in remembered distaste. "The gladiator culture there is too much for my tanks."

"Well-traveled," Radiance remarked. "And I know it's pointless asking _you_ what you were doing there," he said, optics flicking over to Jazz for a moment, smirking, getting the expression mirrored back at him, "But what about you?" He looked back at Prowl. "Follow someone there?"

"Running from someone," Prowl murmured, dropping his optics and doorwings tucked against his back.

Radiance's optics flicked off in a quick cycle and he cocked his head, frowning. "I'm sorry," he said, intensely aware of the dark, focused warning that Jazz was giving with his optics, field, and wing language, though his own gaze stayed on Prowl. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Saxo, I have friends and favors to pull in every city. I'm always ready to help a friend, or trade a favor."

"A favor like what?" Jazz asked smoothly, frame relaxing again as he lifted his high grade. Prowl was settling as well, though focused on the sweet treat in his hand.

Radiance gave a half-grin. "You know what I'm interested in," he said, looking between the two. "Possibly more, now."

"I'll trade a favor for a favor," Prowl said clearly, his full focus sharp and manner all business. "But no favor is worth committing to a function that carries its own criminal charges."

"Who said anything about criminal charges?" Radiance asked, all innocent surprise.

Prowl snorted. "I've read the reports you submit, remember? It doesn't take a light-matrix quad processor to work out what isn't in them."

"Well, there's a difference between _technically_ illegal proceedings and criminal charges," Radiance said, casually sipping at his high grade and leaning back. "No one's getting charged with anything. What we-they, I should say-do is known and sanctioned by anyone who has the power to press charges."

"Why is it 'they' and not 'we' all of a sudden?" Jazz asked.

Radiance hummed. "I'm chief of SWAT, which takes up more than enough of my time, the other gig is purely recruitment. I have a knack for picking out the good ones," he added with a wink. "My job is to send them over, nothing more. Well, maybe give them a work over beforehand, but only if they'll let me."

"As I'm sure you're entirely too aware, making a record disappear is entirely too easy if you know what you're doing. What kind of guarantee is there that the permission won't be revoked after the fact, leaving us vulnerable?" Prowl asked bluntly.

"No records, not like that," Radiance said. "Nothing with designations, images, anything else attached. You get a serial attached to your work, that's it. You can even check out the system if you want, I have at least enough weight for that."

Prowl hummed, turning the system basics over in his processors a few times while both his companions watched him carefully. "Easily abused, but easier to secure. I have a solid assessment of what they'd want Saxo for, but what use am I in that world?"

"Any number of things, I'm sure," Radiance said. "I just pick the talent out where I see it and send it over, doesn't even always work out. But I _know_ they can always use processor speed." He gave Prowl a wry look. "How much did you slow yourself down in organizing the archives at the precinct? I know they were slagged and Longsight was amazed at how fast you got it done, my credits are on that you could have done it faster."

Prowl hesitated, then decided on the truth. "I was working at 29% efficiency on average. I kept myself entertained by investing on the Imperial open market and planning alternative futures."

Radiance managed to keep himself from choking on his high grade, but it was a near thing, and he swallowed smoothly before setting the cube down. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure they could find a use for that, if you were interested in the work. I don't have nearly as much to entice you with, though, I'll admit, other than an augmented salary and interesting work. _You_, on the other hand," he said, turning his gaze to Jazz. "You already know this work can give you something you're not going to get anywhere else."

"And if that's not something I want?" Jazz asked in a soft, deceptively calm tone.

Radiance smiled at him, knowing but calm. "If it's honestly not something you enjoy, I'm slipping, badly. Whether it's because he won't let you or because you don't want to hurt him, you aren't active now, and I know you want to _hurt_ another, and I'm pretty sure you like it in a controlled setting where they can't do much to stop you."

Jazz cocked his head and gave him an odd smile. "You think I'm not active because of Pantera?" he asked, and reached over to slip his hand into Prowl's, lifting it and bringing the back up to his mouth to press a kiss against it, optics never leaving the golden visor. "He knows everything I've done, none of it bothers him."

Radiance leaned back and watched the couple, privately thanking Primus that they weren't hardened criminals yet. "I know you aren't finding targets out there," he made a general wave out the window, "and I know you aren't hurting him," he waved towards Prowl. "That leaves you with no outlet as a sadist."

"Sadist," Jazz murmured, optics glittering strangely as he turned Prowl's hand over in his, brushing his fingers over the palm before lifting it for another kiss. "Say you're right," he said, once he had lowered their entwined hands back down to the table and met Radiance's gaze again. "Say I'm a sadist, and say I miss it. Let's pretend I'm not active because I have some..." He waved his free hand in the air vaguely. "...Moral compass that keeps me from just grabbing whoever I see and want. Who would I be hurting?"

"Depending on the details of that moral compass," Radiance's gaze briefly flicked to Prowl, who merely smiled at him. "Criminals, traitors, difficult sources of information, trainees learning to endure it, the condemned that the nobles don't hunt, or are too slippery to be allowed out."

Jazz turned to look at Prowl for a moment, who looked back silently, and after a pause, he frowned as he turned back to Radiance. "You aren't wrong," he said. "And those are skills I want to keep honed. Pantera would need to look closer at the system, because there are risks we aren't willing to take, not for any reason, and we'll need to talk about it."

"Agreed and understood," Radiance consented easily. "I expected nothing more tonight at best. I honestly wasn't sure we'd talk about it at all yet." He paused to sip on his high grade and focused on Prowl. "If you'd rather go straight Enforcer, I'll sign your application. I know Mortar and Longsight would too. No strings attached. You'd make an amazing ... well, anything you wanted with that processor."

"Investigator, Search and Rescue, CSI, Cybercrimes," Prowl offered. "City planner, command." He picked up his high grade and took a gulp, a move rather unlike his normal behavior. "I do miss utilizing what I was built and upgraded with more fully."

Radiance went silent and studied Prowl intently. "Pick what you want. If it's Enforcer, I know at least three more command officers who will sign your application to the academy in a sparkbeat. I know SWAT will give you almost anything you ask for."

Prowl hummed and nodded his understanding. "I will keep that in mind."

"Which is all I ask," Radiance said, smiling easily.

Jazz leaned in against his mate, touching their helms together as he watched Radiance. "Do you play Sovereign, love?" he asked Prowl.

"Entirely too well," Prowl chuckled, stealing a kiss. "Want him to stay tonight?" he whispered in Jazz audial. "Try out whatever you found the hottest."

Jazz purred and nuzzled back and caught the corner of Prowl's mouth and bit down lightly. "First I want you to kick his aft at Sovereign so I can watch, then maybe," he murmured back.

Prowl chuckled, his pale blue optics glittering as he turned the playful nip into a heated kiss. "Sit on my lap then? A little bit of a challenge can be fun, and I win either way."

Radiance chuckled and shook his helm. "I have a nasty suspicion he'll be as distracting for me as you."

"Me?" Jazz asked innocently, grinning, very carefully keeping his wandering hands above the table. He shot a wink Radiance's way. "Don't worry, I'll make sure I'm more distracting to him."

"As if that'll help," Radiance laughed in good humor. "You two play. I'll set up the board," he grinned and stood to get the holo game cube from its spot on a shelf.

Jazz needed no more invitation than that as he climbed into Prowl's lap and let his engines kick into a low, playful purr, nibbling at Prowl's neck and sliding a hand down to his pelvis, earning himself a playful smack on the back of his wrist that did nothing to stop his caressing. "Supposed to be a challenge, love," he murmured against Prowl's neck, grinning.

"If you play too hard, I'll just stop playing for a couple kliks while I get off," Prowl rumbled as he stroked his mate, one arm holding him in his lap and the other seeking out a doorwing to tease. "You know I have no problem taking you on a table in public."

Jazz grinned and shivered at the thought and rubbed his palm over his lover's spike cover. "What do you think, Radiance?" he asked, lifting his head briefly. "If he gets off he forfeits?"

"But what will he forfeit, other than the game?" Radiance grinned at the pair.

"Mm, loser in the game plays sub?" Prowl suggested. "If I forfeit, you call the shots in the berth tonight. If I win, Jazz does."

"And I can't even ask what happens if I win," Radiance said with mock ruefulness. "That sounds fair. Though you do actually have to start playing for any of it to count," he teased the pair.

"Oh, you are _so_ forfeiting," Jazz purred against his lover's neck. "Want to see what he can do when he's having his wicked way."

The shiver that traveled down Prowl's chassis and made his doorwings flutter spoke as clearly as any words how much it appealed to him, at least as long as his mate was there to enjoy it. "Then we have a challenge. Your skill against my will," he purred before looking at Radiance. "Your win is the same as my forfeit. Not that it'll happen. You may move first."

Radiance tipped his head with an upwards quirk of his lips in acknowledgement of the offered advantage as he moved his first piece, barely needing to look at it, gaze mostly fixed on the couple across the table from him. He couldn't see either of Jazz's hands at the moment, but from the angle at least one of them was in Prowl's lap. He settled back in his chair and gestured to Prowl for his move.

It came as smoothly and quickly as Prowl's hand could move from Jazz's doorwing to the piece, shifting its location on the board in a classic first move that narrowed down what his plans were by around a third. At least that's what his opponent saw. Prowl wasn't even looking as he nibbled on Jazz's neck cables with barely 1% of his processor on tracking the game and moving his hand as needed.

Radiance followed with his move, while Jazz shifted his weight forward in Prowl's lap, baring his neck to his lover with a soft moan, snaking one hand around behind Prowl to play along his back strut while the other stroked the outline of his valve cover. Prowl shivered and made his next move, working his glossa between the thick cables he was mouthing. His valve cover remained stubbornly shut, but he could do nothing about the touch along his back as it slid up between his doorwings and continued like that through the first part of the game. Jazz shifted lazily back and forth between spike and valve covers, focusing far more on the joints where the doorwings met Prowl's back.

Radiance was started to find himself distracted by the blissful expression that was slowly taking over Prowl's features, though he was still pitting his all against a processor that he knew he couldn't beat. When he heard a cover sliding back and saw the way Jazz shifted and changed the angle of his arm, the hand moving his piece almost shook. It had been a long time. A _long_ time.

Jazz was slipping his fingers into his own valve, and when he pulled them back out, slick and heated, he pressed them over Prowl's spike cover, carefully rubbing the lubricant over the metal, massaging it against every seam. The scent of it made both Prowl and Radiance moan, though Radiance managed to muffle his better.

Prowl shuddered and panted for a long moment as he struggled to focus past the pleasure surging through him as much from memory as from the expert touches of his mate. His arm around Jazz spasmed lightly, clutching at his lover blindly. Jazz just squirmed lightly, resettling himself and sliding his fingers back inside his valve, nipping along the length of Prowl's jaw until he heard Radiance's move. He pulled his fingers out and circled the stubborn, heated cover while bringing his other hand around to reach down and join the first, but this one moved lower, and teased at the equally stubborn valve cover. "Your turn, love," he said in a low voice when Prowl didn't move immediately.

When Prowl didn't do more than pant for the next half klik Radiance grinned at him. "Forfeit?"

"No," Prowl's voice had a strangled quality to it, but he managed to make a move. Not the best choice, but not a bad one.

Radiance focused very hard on _not_ focusing on the arousing pair across from him, but instead on the decreased strategy he could see evident in the most recent move. He could never beat this processor when it was at full focus, but part of what he knew how to do was take advantage of altered states. He shifted his own strategy to one less conventional, and even less likely to win in the long run but that would be harder to defend against in the short.

"Such a stubborn pet," Jazz purred as soon as he heard Radiance's piece, and used his fingers to spread his valve wide. "Won't give me what I want."

"I want you to give directions," Prowl panted, his fans buzzing and vents wide open, heating the room around them. He made another move, picking up on the new strategy but not able to focus enough to counter it perfectly. "Want to be at your command," he moaned, then dropped his voice to a barely-there whisper, "my Lord."

Radiance kept himself from reacting physically to the term, especially when he saw the immediate shiver and change in both wing and frame language that it created in Jazz. He moved, watching carefully, as Jazz's teasing nibbles turned into suddenly forceful-looking bites.

"Someone," Jazz murmured, "Does not like losing, I see. Gonna have to earn it, pet. If he hasn't lost in a half dozen moves..." He pressed his lips to Prowl's audial, rubbing their chassis together while wrapping both arms around Prowl's shoulders, stopping the teasing stoking, "...I'm swallowing your spike, and we both know how long you'll last then."

"Hate loosing," Prowl growled despite his panting moans, his frame going almost completely submissive in the same abrupt shift, though more subtle for having worked up to it. "Play to win," he hissed and moved, a shift that if he could keep up his focus enough to follow through would be devastating within three more moves.

Radiance gave a startled look at the board, and countered, while Jazz sat as still as he could in Prowl's lap, not even kissing his mate's neck anymore. The next three moves came fast on Prowl's side, slower on Radiance's, but even highly aroused and with his mate on his lap, there was no doubt that Prowl could ignore it all when motivated.

"You could earn a fortune on the pro circuit," Radiance shook his helm as the game flashed Prowl's victory.

"Too public," Prowl turned his attention to nuzzling Jazz in a completely subservient way. "What is your pleasure, my Lord?" he asked with a distinct note of pride at winning this for his mate.

In response, Jazz straightened and cupped his mate's face in his hands, pulling him into a slow, deep kiss. He swirled their glossa together, making Prowl moan deeply, and lowered one of his hands down for a moment, then brought it back, glistening with lubricate. He bit down gently on Prowl's lower lip, pulling for a moment, then released and pressed the finger against his lover's mouth, encouraging him to take it in. "Do you like my taste?" he asked in a deep purr.

"Very much," Prowl lapped at the offered finger, the arousal flaring his field out to press against Radiance's before he took the digit into his mouth and swirled his glossa around it while he sucked it clean.

Jazz gave a low, approving hum at the sight. "Good," he murmured, absently stroking Prowl's helm as he watched, giving no indication that he was even aware of Radiance's rapt attention behind him. "You're going to get so much more of it, pleasuring me while I watch him spike you, stretch your valve wide." He pulled his finger away and slipped it under Prowl's chin, tilting his mate's head up, meeting his optics. "And after he's spilled in you, you will fill me, and you will not overload until then."

Prowl shuddered and drew in a sharp vent. "Yes, my Lord," he whispered with an intense burst of arousal. "I exist to please you."

Jazz purred and gave him a deep, loving kiss, full of their trust and commitment, pulsing his field with approval. When he finally pulled away from it, he looked over his shoulder while slipping his finger back into Prowl's eager, accepting mouth. "Assuming you have no problems," he said, seeing the look on Radiance's face. "Though if you do, we'll be quite happy on our own," he added, turning back to Prowl and stroking his mate's helm as he watched.

"No problem," Radiance finally gave in to the heat of his frame and allowed his vents and fans to go full out. "Just position him and I'll give you a show."

"Hm," Jazz smiled, looking at his lover. "Berth," he instructed, moving gracefully to his pedes, bringing Prowl with him with barely a brush of his finger under the other's chin, leading him into their berthroom, where he guided him onto his back.

A glance up at Radiance to ensure the mech had followed and was watching, and Jazz moved up next to him, shifting up onto his knees and straddling Prowl's helm. "Tell me how much you want it," he purred, leaning forward, running his fingers along the underside of Prowl's bumper.

"More than anything," Prowl moaned and stretched his helm up to circle his glossa around the slick rim of Jazz's valve. He spread his legs, his knees up and hips rolled forward to give Radiance the best view of his open and glistening valve and to give his mate the best possible view of the spike sliding into it.

Jazz gasped, unprepared for how _good_ even just the light touch felt, sending shocks right up through him. "So good," he moaned, optics finding Radiance, who was leaning against the doorframe and watching, visor bright in the relative darkness of the room. Jazz crooked a finger at him as he settled down more, keeping his next moan mostly muffled. "So let's see what you've been hiding," he purred.

Radiance slid onto the berth, hiding the nervous excitement from his field, never losing Jazz's gaze, and moved between Prowl's legs, putting his hands on the insides of the other mech's thighs and spreading them even wider. He nudged his hips forward against Prowl's, bumping against him, before sliding his cover away and letting his aching spike pressurize.

As dark as the rest of his frame, with glowing golden highlights running up along the underside and forming circles around the entire length, longer and more slender than Jazz. The head was sculpted and smooth, that same gold color right at the very tip.

"As enchanting as the rest of you is," Jazz purred, reaching forward to stroke it lightly.

"How do you want him taken?" Radiance moaned at the touch and image, trying to control just how badly he wanted to sink into the offered tightness and his first real triad experience. He wanted this far more than he ever imagined possible. It sang to a part of his coding he was normally only aware of in the most abstract of ways.

Jazz shivered and gasped as Prowl swirled his glossa through his platelets, making them all quiver from the touch, throttling back the hard rev his engines were threatening so he could focus on his answer. "Long, slow," he instructed, wrapping his fingers under the spike and rubbing the entire length. "Make him work to not overload."

Radiance shuddered and rocked into the touch while Prowl moaned against Jazz's valve, then pressed his glossa inside the rim just enough to lap at the dense ring of sensors there.

"What happens if he fails?" Radiance moaned, more than willing to allow Jazz to tease him. He'd seen enough already to know that it wouldn't be like this every time.

"If he fails," Jazz said, purring at the feel of the spike in his hand and the mouth pressed to his valve, "Instead of spiking me when you're done, he gets to watch while you do. Provided you think you have that kind of stamina, that is," he added with a grin.

"I'm Praxian," Radiance moaned, shivering and eager. It would be a test to see which of them lost control first, though he was reasonably sure that Prowl had a lot more experience with holding his charge in check, and despite his reputation, he was badly in need of a 'face. "Of course I have the stamina."

"Knew I fell in love with a Praxian for a reason," Jazz said, giving a short, gasping laugh, fully enjoying the weight and texture of the dark mech in his palm. ::All right with you, my love?:: he commed his mate as he rocked his hips in a slow counter-rhythm to Prowl's movement.

::Yes!:: Prowl's moan was deeply resonant. ::Watching you with him would melt me.::

Jazz's engines gave a hard, sharp rev and he groaned, fingers tightening for another moment before trailing away, hand lifting slowly to his mouth and touching his smiling lips, fully aware his every movement had Radiance's complete attention. "I think he likes the idea," he said, then shifted his weight forward and held himself up on one arm while the other slid down beneath his mate's thighs, fingers forming a V around the valve entrance, rubbing through the slick platelets. Prowl's vents caught in a sharp gasp and Radiance's vocalizer released a strangled moan as he watched. "He's slick for you, take him," Jazz commanded, voice lowered with desire.

A low, deep rumble of Radiance's powerful pursuit engine greeted the statement. With no hesitation he shifted, lining his smooth spike up with the opening and pressed forward. It took all his will to make the slide a slow one and give the mech watching a good show it of as the bands of black disappeared one by one. It was even harder when the mech he was pressing into tried to roll into the slide and rippled his valve.

"So good of you to share," Radiance moaned as he finally pressed his spike housing against the rim of the valve between Jazz's fingers.

"Just as good of you to join us," Jazz purred, fully enjoying the way the heated x-vents from his lover's mouth had just increased in temperature, strength, and speed. He squirmed lightly, shivering, circling the base of Radiance's spike with his fingers, carefully guiding the mech to slip out just a little before pressing back in. Prowl's frame shuddered beneath him and his moan against Jazz's valve made the younger mech quiver and toss his head back. The heated scent of Prowl's lubricant hit him fully and he managed to lift lust-bright optics up to Radiance. "Long, and slow," he repeated, settling back to watch and enjoy. "See if you can make him overload before you lose yourself."

"And make you overload at least once," Radiance panted as he withdrew until only the tip of his spike was still inside his lover, then slid forward. "Maybe twice, before a spike sinks into you to make you scream." His entire frame was trembling, the difficulty of holding back already visible in his frame. "He feels _so_ good. Tight. Hot. Slick. So incredibly eager."

Under them Prowl whined and gripped the spike filling him. His hands rubbed Jazz's hips as he thrust his glossa as deeply as he could, lapping at the slick interior of his mate, rewarded by the deep, blissful moans that Jazz gave from even the lightest lick.

"He knows how much I like watching," Jazz gasped out, bracing himself with his hands on his thighs. "And being watched." He grinned, meeting Radiance's gaze before flicking his gaze downward, between his legs. He reached between them, touching gentle fingers to Prowl's neck and stroking at the cabling there. "And his frame is incredible," he added in a moan. "Every part of him."

"Yours must be too," Radiance said in a low voice. He was panting heavily, optics roaming the other's frame. "Can't wait to explore more of you, both of you, if you'll let me."

"I'd say it's a definite possibility," Jazz hummed, his field meshing with the other two, tangling in pleasure. "Pantera can tell you how much I enjoyed your ideas."

"Good," Radiance groaned and shook, his pace picking up as his control slipped. How these two could still be holding out he couldn't imagine, but he wanted to learn. "Want to be helpful," his voice was nearly strangled by the static of his charge as it began to dance across his frame and arch onto Prowl's where they came close. "Close," he warned, giving Jazz an opportunity for one last bit of direction if it was desired.

Jazz felt the pleased, ecstatic flare from beneath him and shuddered over his mate as he watched their new berthmate's face wash with bliss. "So eager," he gasped, shivering badly from a mix of the show and his lover's familiar touch. "Let me see you in ecstasy, then, gorgeous one," he purred, leaning forward, rapt.

A roar rolled into a sharp, high keen as Radiance drove forward, thrusting hard and fast for a few brief cycles, then locked up to pump his fluids deep into Prowl's valve, lighting off sensors with each grinding burst.

Jazz shuddered and his hand shot out to grab Radiance's shoulder to steady himself when Prowl bucked and charge rushed through all three of them, Jazz giving a sharp, almost startled cry as it pushed him into overload, trembling and hot around his mate's glossa as they rode the charge out together.

Radiance's frame sagged and Jazz gasped, forcing himself to unlock the grip his thighs had around Prowl's helm, managing to lift his head enough to offer the dark mech a grin. "Pantera's turn, then," he purred as he lifted himself up and off, vents whirring but his arousal nowhere near sated, not for these two.

With a shaky nod Radiance pulled out as his coordination returned and flopped down near the end of the berth, watching as Prowl shifted to his hands and knees and Jazz spread himself out shamelessly for his mate.

Jazz wrapped his hand around the back of Prowl's neck, bringing him in for a deep kiss, eagerly tasting himself on his lover's glossa as he reached forward to rub his palm over the spike cover, which sprang away as soon as he brushed against it. "Got me all warmed up and ready, pet," he murmured, stroking the spike that pressurized into his hand. "Take me, need you, need more, _deeper_."

Behind them Radiance gave an appreciative rumble for the level of custom design apparent in Prowl's spike before it disappeared into Jazz with a joint moan.

"Need you," Prowl shuddered with the pleasure of being inside the mech he loved so much. "Love you, always want to be yours."

"Always will," Jazz gasped, reclining back and sliding his leg up along Prowl's body. "My love," he moaned, completely aware of Radiance's attention and the view they were giving the other mech, the knowledge that they were being watched making him shudder right down to his protoform and ripple around Prowl's spike.

"Yes, so slick, so tight, you're perfect," Prowl rumbled, rocking his hips to slide in and out of his lover and giving the mech behind them a show of the movement and Prowl's still-exposed valve, dripping lubricant and transfluid. "Never tire of you."

Jazz hummed in bliss, utterly content to be beneath Prowl, feeling the perfect rock and stretch of his lover' frame and the slow, perfect buildup of charge as they pressed together. "Love you," he moaned, clutching Prowl to him, slowly losing himself.

Radiance couldn't keep his hand off his spike as he watched, stroking slowly, easily, engines rumbling and looking on with wonder as the pair moved together. As their pants became heavier and their shivers harder, he was watching them become equals. One of them had started in control, but just from the way they touched and moaned, and from what he could teek, that couldn't be farther from what they actually _were_. The control, the power, was all a game. They were perfectly, absolutely balanced now, familiar and knowing, both a joy and a torture to watch.

"Pantera," Jazz moaned suddenly, sharply, fingers gripping at Prowl's shoulder. "Close!"

"Yes," Prowl moaned, shivering, thrusting and so very close himself. "Please, let me feel you overload, drag me with you. Let me."

Jazz whined, pushing back against him, and let go of the tenuous hold he was keeping on his charge and immediately felt it burst out and race through his frame, making him seize beneath Prowl and buck against his spike. He heard Radiance's low moan, and then he felt Prowl's frame freeze against his and he toppled over the edge, _lost_ in his lover's arms, field exploding with bliss as he was filled, flooded, in every possible way by his love.

When Jazz was able to focus again, he felt Prowl snuggled on one side and Radiance on the other.

"That was amazing," Radiance purred and leaned in to kiss Jazz warmly. "You're both amazing in how right you are together."

Jazz kissed back, getting a slow, careful taste of the dark lips before turning away to claim an equally deep kiss from his mate. "We think so too," he purred, stroking Prowl's helm, gazing adoringly at him.

"Think you have enough in your for a third round?" Radiance asked hopefully. "Your spike and my valve haven't had any fun yet."

Prowl's engine gave a hard, hungry rev before he throttled it back.

Jazz smiled and chuckled, taking one more kiss from Prowl, then lifted himself up and rolled, hands on Radiance's shoulders, pinning the other mech back against the berth. "Slow or rough?" he asked, engines purring as he pushed Radiance's thighs apart with his own. He and Prowl both reveled in the brilliant flare of Radiance's field as the valve cover snapped open, revealing a very slick valve.

"Show me your rough. Hard, fast and deep. Anything you want," Radiance offered.

::He's testing you, love,:: Prowl commed Jazz privately. ::He wants to see where your rough is on his scale.::

Jazz cocked his head down at the dark mech, corners of his mouth quirking up. "Apparently you want to be sore in the morning," he purred deeply, settling back in his processor to a place he'd built from observation, and reached down between Radiance's legs, jamming his fingers into the offered valve, testing it briefly for lubricant and stretch with a quick, harsh thrust and twist of his wrist. His spike pressurized between them and he shifted his weight, hand snapping out and up, grabbing Radiance's throat and slamming his head back into the berth, sinking into the frame beneath him in one thrust.

He felt how startled Radiance was, and the mech submitted in the way of one who was humoring, rather than cowed. Prowl's field touched Jazz's with concern before he settled in to watch, teek and enjoy, but ready to interfere if needed.

Jazz groaned, fingers tightening around the neck as he reached back to grab Radiance's leg, hiking it up and spreading the mech forcefully wide, barely taking the time to feel and enjoy the new frame before starting to drive into him, setting a fast, forceful rhythm. He could feel Radiance's valve quivering and contracting around him, unfamiliar with the design of his spike, learning its shape and girth in short bursts of motion when Jazz was fully buried before being forced to release as he pulled back out. "Not bad at all," Jazz gasped, engines revving with the effort.

Dark hands reached up to caress Jazz's bumper and undercarriage as the black mech otherwise relaxed into the situation, then began to moan as the pleasure built. "Love your spike," he gasped out after a couple kliks, his hips starting to work into Jazz's rhythm.

Jazz gave a pleased rev in response, lowering himself more fully over the other, pressing his face to the side of Radiance's neck to bite at the cables there, fingers shifting to give him more room but not loosening in the slightest. "When I'm less impatient," he managed, gasping, "I'll get you properly strung up and used."

Radiance shivered in anticipation. Bondage and submission might not be high on his kink list, but as long as it felt good and it got his lover revved up he wasn't going to complain.

Right now, Jazz was giving him _nothing_ to complain about, and from the way the mech was panting and moving, the opposite was true as well.

Each of them two hard overloads down already, it took their frames longer to build a charge than this kind of speed would normally need, but even with that, it was still a matter of counting kliks until Jazz shuddered over him and roared against his neck, the sound muffled, spilling into his valve, filling him completely with white-hot sensation.

While not as intense as his first, the charge crackling directly into his valve caused Radiance to arch up hard, his legs attempting to lock against his lover as the overload washed through him.

As it started to taper, Jazz slumped down into a slow reboot cycle and Radiance collapsed back, gasping, looking at Prowl, Jazz's fingers still around his neck. "Didn't expect that," he said, shivering, slowly lowering his leg down and settling, taking the stillness to get a better feel of the lodged spike.

"He has a dominance kink that I can only partially fulfill," Prowl said with a warm smile and hazily pleasurable field from watching. "I'm not surprised he indulged in one of the few things he can not do with me."

Radiance trailed his fingers up and down along the back of Jazz's neck, listening to the systems start to boot up, his own engines purring and sated. "I didn't expect to even see the inside of your apartment, much less your berthroom, this soon," he murmured, still facing Prowl. "I'm sorry if I walk a fuzzy line between business and pleasure sometimes."

"I understand," Prowl quirked a slight smile. "We weren't exactly planning on moving this fast either, but we told you the truth. Saxo _likes_ your ideas, loves being watched and watching, and you are right that I've longed for a triad. Whether this works out long term or not, it will be pleasant when you are invited over. Do not expect more than that for some time. We may be ready to accept an occasional lover, but we are not ready to court for something more."

"I understand as well," Radiance said softly, his gaze flickering back to Jazz for a moment, feeling the soft rumble of engines kicking back on into a contented idle above him. "I've never courted a pair before, I'm happy to move towards that as slowly as you want. Though, what would you say to lunch sometime? Just you and me. You know I'm interested in Saxo, and he doesn't come without you, so I'd like to get to know you better."

"I would be agreeable to that," Prowl smiled, warmed by being properly courted, even on such a basic level. He reached out to stroke Jazz's arm, lightly removing the lax hand from Radiance's throat, then stroked the cables lightly, inspecting for any damage. "I would like to know you better as well. For tonight, you are welcome to recharge with us."

Jazz's pleased hum indicated that he was back online and had heard the last part. His optics flickered on and went immediately to Prowl, reaching for him, drawing him down into a lazy kiss. He shifted, pulling out of Radiance with a mutual shiver and moved onto the berth between the other two.

"I would enjoy staying," Radiance said, smiling, stroking Jazz's helm and looking at Prowl. "Thank you."

"Thank you as well," Jazz murmured, barely fighting off recharge now that he was fully booted. He tugged at Prowl, who was still sitting. "Lay down."

Prowl chuckled and obediently laid down, smoothly snuggling against his mate so they were perfectly aligned. "Recharge well, my love," he murmured to Jazz, stroking his shoulder.

Radiance tucked himself in behind Jazz, face against the back of his neck, and Jazz purred happily between the two. "Love you," he murmured to Prowl, and slipped into recharge.

* * *

Neither Prowl nor Radiance asked Jazz about the potential job offer the SWAT CO had made him, and it was more than a decaorn later before Jazz touched his fingers to Prowl's dataport, relaxed and panting beneath his lover after interface, silently requesting the security of the hardline.

~I'm going to accept Radiance's offer,~ he said when they connected. ~Unless you don't want me to.~

~It is a good offer,~ Prowl kissed him softly. ~We may not see as much of each other, but if you enjoy it, it is worth it. Just tell me why you want to accept.~

~I need to feel like I'm _doing_ something, _building_ something,~ Jazz said. ~Dancing is fun and all and I love doing it, but it's empty. This...this is keeping something honed. He formed me into a weapon and I'm going to dull if I do nothing but _dance_ until we're strong enough. This will sharpen and refine.~

~Agreed,~ Prowl murmured, thoughtful and a little sad. ~This will hone you into something he could never conceive of if I am correct. It will bring us contacts of the kind he doesn't know how to stop. It may also bring you into contact with his allies, or even him.~

~His 'parties,' that's true,~ Jazz said, and frowned. ~It's strange to think we could be in the same city as him, at any time. He was in Kalis all the time, and anywhere else he had friends. I wonder...what I would do if I just turned a corner and saw him.~

~If you can, don't react and tell me immediately,~ Prowl said with absolute certainty that it was the right choice. ~Track him. If you can, shift frames and kill him. You have the upgrades and training to do it if you catch him by surprise. But only do so if you can get away.~

~I would so regret not getting to torture him with you,~ Jazz hummed, and shivered out to the tips of his doorwings. ~But having him gone...getting this _thing_ off. If it's safe, if I can get him somewhere where I can recover from the break, I'll kill him.~

~Know that I _will_ be on my way as soon as you comm me. I can get you away,~ Prowl said. ~I would miss torturing him as well, but it would be well worth it to have him gone.~

Jazz purred and nuzzled his mate. ~This will make me stronger. Have you decided what you'd like to do? You know Radiance wants to recruit you, he's made no secret of that.~

~I know, but I have an itch to scratch first,~ Prowl nuzzled him back. ~I want to be an Enforcer. I want to be among people again, helping, enforcing the rules. It's not being a seneschal but it's closer. I can always take him up on his offer later.~

~That will not help us see more of each other, but we have the rest of our lives together. It's taken this long to finally believe something isn't going to take you from me at any moment, I think,~ Jazz said, almost thoughtful. ~And you are so perfectly suited to enforce rules,~ he added with a grin, and in a smooth motion, hooked his leg around Prowl's waist and rolled, pushing his lover onto his back and settling over him, still fully sheathing his spike. ~You always were.~

~True, on all counts,~ Prowl relaxed into his lover's movements and moaned softly at the way it made his spike slide inside the tight, hot channel. ~Love you.~

~Up for a ride?~ Jazz purred, lifting his arms up, running one hand along the opposite arm and dipping his wings enticingly. ~A celebration. This will make us strong, this will make us _so_ strong.~

~Always,~ Prowl shivered in anticipation. ~Anything you desire, love. Yes, it will make us very strong. It will bring us allies and training and resources.~

~Mhmm,~ Jazz hummed, hands moving down along the front of his chassis, coming to settle on his insides of his thighs, fingers splayed out, framing the view of Prowl's spike disappearing into his valve as he began to rock. ~My love, my love,~ he moaned, head thrown back, field washed with bliss, Prowl's flush with the same and entangled with his, losing themselves in each other for the rest of the night.


	26. Opening Gambit

Starcrossed 26: Opening Gambit  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prowl held himself even more properly than usual, his frame and doorwings taut without showing tension. He had not felt this level of stress at meeting someone he already knew since he'd given his first report as a seneschal. Everyone he passed knew what he was here for and many gave him encouraging looks. Radiance had said that Mortar would be happy to sign the recommendation form. Yet there was no way to know until he actually tried.

With a steadying intake and x-vent, Prowl pinged for admittance to the precinct chief's office.

The door opened along with the rumbling, "Come in," from inside the office, revealing Mortar seated behind his desk per usual, scowling down at the disorderly sprawl of datapads in front of him before he lifted his head, and his expression immediately shifted to a warm smile. "Pantera," he greeted, gesturing for him to sit.

Prowl smiled back slightly and complied. "I see the bureaucracy has not improved any."

"Not one bit," Mortar grumbled, held two datapads up, looked bewilderedly between the two, then turned them around for Prowl to see. "Tell me what is the reasoning behind needing a separate report for both a domestic investigation and the same investigation's follow-up and why they cannot just all be in the same slagging document."

"The designer of the system wanted to keep everyone busy entering data and off the streets," Prowl suggested with a touch of dark humor. "Though I believe the actual answer has to do with there not being a designer to the system."

Mortar gusted a huff of agreement, looked at the datapads once more, then tossed them aside into the rest of the pile. "I'd believe that. You want that job? Please tell me you're here because you've realized your life's calling is to rid the planet of bureaucratic redundancy."

Prowl chuckled deeply. "As much as I'd enjoy that, I do not believe there is an opening, much as every working mecha would want there to be. I am here for a job, however." He pulled a datapad from subspace and offered it. "I wish to attend the Academy."

Mortar accepted, skimming the document without fully reading it. "Patrol," he commented, nodding in approval. "Four metacycle course, but gives a solid base to work up from. Excellent choice. Gonna give Radiance a solid thrashing for this if Longsight doesn't get to him first."

"Radiance didn't give me the idea," Prowl promised, though his chuckle did little to make it sound credible. "It does give me a good base. I have also missed working with common mecha, being in a community and being someone they can turn to when there is trouble."

Mortar pretended to look displeased, but the warm pride in his field made the expression futile. "I'll give him a thrashing just in case," he rumbled, and then his scowl smoothed out into open concern. "Before I sign this, I have to ask how things are at home. Academy is going to be hard, even with your frame and processor, I can't emphasize that enough. Support from a mate can help immensely, but trouble will do the opposite."

"As Radiance can attest to, things are good at home," Prowl answered honestly. "Saxo has recovered from his distress and I have recovered from surrendering the sparklings to be raised by others. I'm very grateful that Saxo and Radiance get along. It will make things much easier for me to focus on my studies, knowing that someone he likes is looking out for him."

"From what I haven't heard from all the personal gossip that isn't allowed and doesn't happen, all three of you get along quite well," Mortar said, signing the datapad with a bit of a smile. He started to hand it back, then stopped and pulled it back just as Prowl was about to take it, raising an optic ridge at him. "If my SWAT chief gets too besotted to do his job, _you're_ going to be the one getting a trashing."

"Only if you can catch me," Prowl dared to tease, feeling lighter and more excited about the future than he had in a very long time.

Mortar smiled and chuckled. "I could catch you, just give me a vorn to get my engines back in racing shape. Congratulations, trainee, you've certainly earned this."

"I'm not a trainee yet, sir," Prowl said. "This is just an application."

"Nonsense," Mortar rumbled. "With my signature on there? You'll be accepted in time for the next round." He handed the datapad back over.

"Thank you sir," Prowl responded properly, but the excitement and happiness in his field caressed Mortar's when the datapad changed hands.

"It's my pleasure," Mortar said, with warm honesty. "So, Saxo starts his own training this orn, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Prowl nodded, a mixture of concern and pleasure in his field.

Mortar gave him a sympathetic look. "I know what it's like, to watch a loved one go through that course. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always more than happy for a reason to avoid my desk work."

Prowl chuckled, then paused. "Who did you have go through it?"

"A very dear friend," Mortar said, nostalgia clear in the tilt of his doorwings as he waved Prowl out the door. "We were raised as brothers. Now go on, you need to get that submitted before this orn's deadline if you want to start next round."

* * *

Halfway across the city and deep underground, Jazz stood in a dim room that was empty but for a single chair and the lithe, matte black mech that was circling him, giving him a long, hard, silent look. Jazz held still, calm, unintimidated by the light-looking frame, one that reminded him of his original adult frame.

"So you're my new recruit," the mech finally said, breaking the silence very suddenly. "'Saxo.' Tell me, what makes you so special, Saxo?"

"I handle pain well, I give it better," Jazz said.

"I can teach anyone that," the black mech responded. "Try again."

Jazz shrugged. "Apparently what makes me special is that I don't need to be taught. I've already proven I can handle it."

"Yes, physical pain, at least when you're glitching over giving away the sparkling you carried," the black mech began circling him again. "Physical pain is a great way to distract yourself from how fragged your processors are. Just how did you get so damaged?"

Jazz's doorwings lifted in a barely-discernable tensing of his frame, but one that the other saw easily, as clear to him as the pause before the answer was. "I didn't have a kind teacher."

"Designation," the black mech demanded calmly.

"I don't know it," Jazz said. "You obviously know about the glitch that drove my sparkling away. In an early attempt to prevent it from integrating, the designation was wiped."

"Risky, since you're still hiding from him," the black mech observed, then pushed Jazz into the chair and leaned in, right up against his face. "How do you know I'm not him?" he purred. "That I'm not going to just keep you in this room forever, or until I tire of you at least."

"I _know_ what he looks like," Jazz said. "If you are him, rebuilt, I hardly expect you'd feel compelled to be honest about your designation."

"Then you aren't completely clueless. Good," he purred, lifting a finger to stroke the flat of it under Jazz's jaw and chin. "Describe him. I want to know who to thank. And to tear to shreds should you survive me."

Jazz jerked his head away. "No."

"Yes." He shifted his finger to put the sharp claw tip under the jaw strut. "You will have no secrets from me. Not when you leave this room. You will give them to me, or I will take them."

"I would love to see you try," Jazz said. "Is this supposed to be training or an interrogation?"

A grin spread across matte black features. "A bit of both, but mostly the later. This is about determining if you are worth my time to train. That, in short, is about how much it takes to make you break." He leaned forward and nipped a kiss. "Tell me, did you ever love those little monsters you got rid of?"

"I might have, once," Jazz said, scowling at him. "If I did I can't imagine it anymore. Gonna ask if I remember their designations, too?"

"Nope," he chuckled, his field playing along Jazz's. "But I do wonder what designation you were first known by. How many you've gone through. I may not trust your records, but I can teek how young you are. If you've been in your adult frame a quarter century I'll resign."

That made Jazz's optics widen. He hadn't realized that could be teeked so quickly and easily. "Four vorns," he admitted, seeing no reason to hide that.

"It's a skill, pretty one," the black mech purred, smoothly and easily hiding his intense shock at such youth given what he knew. "No, not many can teek that. This is my function." He paused and stood, giving Jazz a bit of space as he began to pace again. "My secondary one, but it takes up much of my time these vorns. My first function, what I was called to be, care to guess at it?"

Jazz gave him a good, long look, all the way up and down. "You look like you would make an excellent sparkling sitter," he said earnestly.

"Good, a sense of humor," he grinned at his subject. "You'll be fun. Radiance seems to think your best use is an interrogator. Would you agree?"

"Why don't you show me how it's done and then I'll let you know," Jazz said, cocking his head and mirroring the grin.

"As you wish," the dark mech purred. He moved like lighting, slamming Jazz to his back, making him give a quiet, startled grunt at the impact, and then twisted him around to catch both wrists in a tight coil of chain. "Remember, you asked for this," he crooned in Jazz's audial before hauling the larger mech to his pedes with strength that such a small, lithe frame shouldn't have.

Jazz jerked both wrists against the chain, twisting and snapping, finding it held stronger than he ever would have suspected. "Scared for my arms to be free?" he taunted, unsettled by the speed the mech had displayed but not letting it show.

"Hardly," he laughed as he tossed the end over a locking hook and secured it so Jazz was standing on his toe plates. "I'm Whiplash, if he didn't tell you. If you're good enough, I'll teach you everything I know." He came around to catch Jazz's chin so they were staring in each other's optics. "If you aren't, if you break too soon, you probably won't leave this room."

"That's a bluff and we both know it," Jazz snapped at him. "Radiance wouldn't have sent me here otherwise."

"Radiance has his job, I have mine," Whiplash walked around his prey. When he was behind Jazz there was a snapping sound, a supersonic crack. "My job is to make sure any mecha I train will not crack. Will not break. Will not surrender to the enemy or to Primus below." Another supersonic crack and this time Jazz saw it for the black whip that had no doubt given the mech his designation. "In that process there are casualties. It happens. I prefer them to happen early, rather than after I've invested vorns into a subject."

Whiplash came to stand in front of Jazz, the whip in an easy coil in his hand. "The rules are simple. I will do anything I can to break you. I will violate you in any and every way I can imagine. There are only two ways out of this room with your spark still in your frame. Say 'rendono' and it is over. I will see you to our medic. You will be repaired and you will never see my kind again. It is failure. Surrender. Second is to give me the designation you were created with," Whiplash smiled dangerously. "Yes, I am reasonably well aware of just how badly you do not want that information known. It is a death sentence for you and your mate if I read it right."

Jazz couldn't completely stifle the stunned shock that rippled out into his field as he stared at the black mech. "And how will you know I'm not lying, if you don't even believe my records?"

"A very long existence at teeking the truth. I put myself and my teams on the line every vorn based on whether I believe a prisoner is telling me the truth when I don't have the resources to check," Whiplash smiled darkly. "If you can lie and make me believe it, you've earned the right to your secrets."

Jazz regarded him for a moment. "My designation _is_ Saxo," he said.

"It might be, but that's not what I asked," Whiplash danced the sharp tip of the whip across Jazz's bumper. Just a scratch. Just enough to tell the bound mech of Whiplash's skill.

Jazz twitched at it. "It's the designation I was created with," he said flatly. "No reason to hide that."

"We both know better than that," Whiplash snapped his wrist and shattered Jazz's right headlight.

Jazz jerked and arched, hissing sharply. "What's a designation matter, anyway?"

"Many things," he shrugged and snapped his wrist to shatter the other headlight. "Right now, I want it because you are desperate not to tell me."

Another hiss and a wince and Jazz looked at the mech through half-shuttered optics. "I don't believe you would deactivate me," he finally said. "I'm too good. I'm not giving it to you, try as hard as you want."

"We'll see about that," Whiplash snapped the whip's clawed end across Jazz's abdominals.

* * *

Jazz was _shocked_ back online with a sharp, cruel twist of a claw in one of his vents and he gasped, the pain slamming back into him. A look at his chronometer-he'd been out for less than a klik-somewhere around three orns since the door had closed and locked him in here-and he groaned.

A hand patted his cheek and he forced his fritzing vision feed to focus and looked scathingly at the mech that was now straddling his hips, apparently having let him drop when he'd been knocked offline.

Whiplash looked gruesome, which meant Jazz had to look worse. It was his spilled energon coating the mech and he knew he was covered with transfluid on top of that. More than that, he _hurt_. He ached in a way he hadn't felt in vorns, and he so badly wanted to give in, give Whiplash the secret he was trying to pry out, but terror that the mech would turn on him, and the _need_ not to fail at this, kept him holding out.

But he was starting to wonder if the mech really wouldn't deactivate him if he didn't give. He was in bad shape.

"How...long?" he rasped.

"How long until what?" Whiplash asked, looking very comfortable where he was perched over the larger Praxian frame, tracing his claws around seams on his chest in a way that was making Jazz nervous.

"Until...I pass."

Whiplash laughed at him. "Doesn't work like that." One claw wriggled deeper. "Gonna tell me what I want to hear?"

Jazz shook his head.

The mech's field flared out with pleasure that he didn't try to hide, and then there was a _pull_ and the sickening, dizzying burn of fraying, snapped cables as the plate came off, and it finally clicked in Jazz's processor what the mech was trying to do.

"No!" he gasped, and bucked his hips, twisting. A powerful hand slammed him back into the ground. "Stay out of my chest!"

"Really?" Whiplash asked, not stopping, weakening the plating and locks with small, careful strikes and slashes. "You couldn't bring yourself to care about being raped and now _this_ is so important?" He grinned. "Let's see why, pretty one."

"Nn-" Jazz bucked again. "Stop-_stop!_ Leave it alone!"

"Whores should do whatever is wanted of them."

"I'm _not_ a whore," Jazz growled.

"Oh but you are. Spreading your legs for free, less than a gutters buymech. What fragged you so much? Is that why you hide?"

"Slag you," Jazz hissed, and well-armored chest plating started to creak. "_Please._"

Whiplash ignored him, focused on his work.

Jazz groaned, gathered his strength, and _rolled_, dislodging the mech, but only for a matter of nanokliks before he was pinned again.

"Is your spark deformed?" Whiplash asked sweetly. "Is that why you couldn't look at that sparkling? Knew he was the same?"

Jazz turned his head to the side, panting and silent.

"Designation, slut."

"Go melt in the Pit," Jazz growled.

"You're going to fail," Whiplash informed him. "I can tell. Give me your designation."

"Strata."

"Try lying better next time," the mate black mech shot back. "Designation. History."

"I can't-_I can't!_" Jazz almost sobbed when the plating started to buckle, weakening. "Please, my mate could be killed!"

"Inconsequential."

"Just-just promise you won't use it to hurt us," Jazz begged.

"Can't, sunshine."

"Then-"

"Designation."

"But-"

"Whore. Failure. Everything you whispered to yourself alone in the dark is true, that's the thing most mecha try not to believe, but I'm here to tell you they're all true. Glitched-out slut. _Shareware._ Overloading in gutters from being pounded into the filth. Abused as a sparkling, perhaps? A black market buybit? It would explain the obsession with interfacing. Does Pantera know?"

Jazz growled at him.

"Designation, please," Whiplash said sweetly, and his claws were all the way under the plating, and when he ripped, everything was going to _tear_ apart. Jazz's vents stalled out, and the mech grinned darkly.

"Please," Jazz gasped. "Please, I'll-"

"Designation." A pull.

"No!" Jazz cried. "What do you want to hear, anything, just not-! I-I was created to be sold to a sadist with a seal fetish-he was my teacher, I fell in love with him and his newspark took, I only escaped after I found out what he wanted to do to my sparkling, please, that's the truth!"

Whiplash stilled for a moment, looking at him. "That _is_ the truth," he finally said, then his gaze went dark. "But not what I wanted to know."

One rough pull, and Jazz's world tilted in a dizzying lurch of pain as the plating was torn open.

He felt as much as teeked the shock the rolled through Whiplash's field at what was inside Jazz's chest. Not a deformed spark, but a caged, sealed-off one.

"There aren't half a dozen mecha in existence that can do work like that," Whiplash breathed, allowing his awed respect for the quality of the work to show. "Perhaps only two that could be trusted not to tell who it was installed in."

Jazz's panting slowed and gradually quieted in the moment of stillness as he stared at the mech above him. Damage warnings were flooding his HUD and he was doing his best to ignore them, but he also knew he was only going to survive so much longer without energon. "Please," he whispered, voice laced with static. "_Please_, I'll tell you, just promise you won't use it to hurt Pantera."

A strangely gentle finger caressed his spark chamber through the holes in the black crystal cage, sending zaps of pleasure into Jazz's broken frame.

"You know I can't do that," Whiplash told him, not-so-privately amazed at the implications of what he was looking at as he began to put the pieces together into a picture he would never have believed in a report.

"If I can't trust you..."

"You're going to have to," Whiplash told him. "You're going to have to trust even when I can't promise you, because I refuse to lie to my agents about what I can not control." He regarded the mangled and desperate mech under him.

Jazz struggled with himself, torn, looking back at him through the glitching vision feed. He couldn't, he _couldn't_ give up that designation. He shook his head.

A smile quirked over Whiplash's lips. "Very well," he murmured, and the gentle, teasing strokes through the blocker over his chamber changed, shifted, and what had been soft pleasure turned into _agony._ Sensors told him that Whiplash was barely using any pressure, but just that light scratch set his sensornet alight.

"_You_ are not bonded to your mate, like your records say," Whiplash's voice cut through the white-out haze.

"No-I-I-" Jazz gasped.

"You are not a Praxian citizen. Your citizenship should not have been granted. I could have you arrested, torn apart, reported, deported."

Vision was fritzing, he could barely conceive of his frame outside the claws that were starting to dig into the crystal.

"You're going to deactivate," that voice crooned. "After everything you've been through, you're going to deactivate alone and screaming on the floor, Pantera will never know what happened, you just won't ever come home. He'll fade in agony, just as alone, never knowing..."

"_No!_" Jazz sobbed, writhing. "No-nn-i-it's-I-"

"What's that? I couldn't quite understand you."

A horrifying, shuddering, protoform-spasming _scrape_ over the crystal, a layer of it shredded away beneath the claw.

"_Jazz!_" he screamed.

Immediately the pain abated, the pressure gone, leaving only echoes of it skittering across Jazz's awareness.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it my young noble?" Whiplash purred.

His vents clicked and spun in broken, uneven cycles, too damaged to move air properly through him. "You can't," Jazz managed, barely a whisper, shivers from energon-deprived systems starting to move through him. "You can't tell, Pantera..."

"Now why would I want to tell, Saxo?" Whiplash asked calmly. "I'd lose the best recruit I've had in ages."

Pain-bright optics flickered up to him. "He'd pay you. You could be the richest mecha on this side of the planet."

"I have _much_ more valuable secrets if I wanted credits," Whiplash pointed out mildly. "So will you, once I've trained you. Mecha in our field cannot be bought. Not without getting their designation on the hunting list for the rest of us."

Jazz nodded, dazed. "Is his on there?" he managed, sure Whiplash would know who he meant.

"No," Whiplash shook his helm. "He hasn't done anything to warrant that kind of attention yet. But I know he'll slip up eventually."

Jazz's half-grin was bordering on delirium. "So I lasted long enough."

"Yep," Whiplash chuckled. "Any questions before I turn you over to our medic?"

"Had you ever 'faced a noble before?"

"Yes," Whiplash turned serious. "I've tortured them, extinguished them as well. Not even they are above us, should the Prime be angered enough."

"Shouldn't...be above you ever," Jazz murmured, optics flickering out. "Diseased class."

"All of Cybertron is diseased, youngling," Whiplash murmured as he started in on the first repairs while he waited for the medic to arrive. "You know that better than most who come here, I think."

Jazz nodded, sighed, and gave into the overwhelming press of fuel loss, head lolling as he dropped into stasis.

* * *

Radiance startled out of his light recharge when a hand landed on his shoulder and shook, nearly toppling him over in a completely undignified show as he rapidly oriented and faced the intruder with a glare and an irritated growl, until he saw who it was, and toned the growl down. The glare remained.

"Hey Rad," Whiplash grinned. "What a surprise to find you up here."

"Whiplash," Radiance greeted evenly. He was waiting as deep as he was permitted to go into this base without being summoned, anxious to hear anything about Jazz and how the initial testing had gone.

Whiplash flopped down next to him on the bench. "You found a _fun_ toy for me."

Radiance's cold expression stayed in place. "Does that mean he's alive?"

"Didn't say that, but yeah, he's alive. And by the way," Whiplash said, punching his arm playfully. "Way to go, hookin' up with the young ones. _Four_ vorns, Rad, didn't think you had it in you."

Radiance's visor flickered in a blink. "Four vorns."

"Since his adult upgrades," Whiplash said, nodding, fully enjoying the look that was going across the recruiter's face.

Radiance rebooted his vocalizer a few times as he stood. "Thank you for letting me know he survived. I'm going to let his mate know, he's going to worry himself into a glitch if he doesn't hear anything soon."

"Take care!" Whiplash called after him. "Let him know he's in the hospital if he wants to visit, they'll let him in."

* * *

Radiance found Prowl in his new temporary residence at the Enforcer Academy, walking back from that orn's training to his shared room. He fell into place behind him, then swung an arm around his shoulders and ducked him around a corner. Prowl stiffened, then relaxed when he realized who it was. "Saxo?"

Radiance nodded. "Yeah, he got through the initial testing," he said, then lowered his voice. "Did you _know_ he's only four?" he exclaimed.

"Yes," Prowl nodded, frame and field relaxing at the knowledge that his mate was alive and relatively safe. "There is very little I don't know. Much of it is information we aren't ready to talk about. We like you, Radiance. You are our lover. We are not ready for it to be more."

"Neither am I," Radiance said, a little startled. "I just..._four?_ I knew he was young but I thought...half century, maybe." He huffed, annoyed with himself for not pinning the age better.

"I'm fairly sure he would have told you if you asked," Prowl tried to smooth it over. "We never hid that he was young. But don't feel bad," he leaned into his lover a bit. "He usually acts a lot older than he is. Can I see him?"

Radiance nodded. "He's in the hospital-their hospital, that is. If you have some free joors right now I can show you there, but I really need to get back to work, so if not you'll have to find it yourself."

"I am done for the orn. I have nine joors until I am expected anywhere," Prowl nodded, eager to see Jazz, to reassure himself that his love was going to recover. "Please," he added softly with a motion towards the main road.

Radiance touched their helms together briefly, and nodded again. "Follow, it isn't too far from here."

Radiance didn't speak during the drive over, following Prowl's quiet mood, and left him at the door after a brief encouraging murmur and flare of his field.

The building was inconspicuous, but as Prowl stepped to the door, there was a pause before it opened, the delay of someone IDing him before allowing him entrance. Once inside, he was faced with an open room with a hall leading off of it, and one mech standing there. "If you'll follow me," he said kindly. "Your mate is recharging, but you are welcome to wait with him."

"Thank you," Prowl canted his doorwings and helm politely and followed the mech. He didn't ask questions. He knew why and how his mate was here. He was led down several floors and through identical hallways, until the mech stopped at a door and palmed it open.

"Please do not leave this room on your own. There is a comm just inside and when you press it, another escort will be here to lead you out. Take as long as you would like." He stepped back, let Prowl enter, and the door closed and locked behind him.

Jazz was on the single berth, optics offlined and covered in fresh repairs, the most notable of them being on his chest plate, large fresh welding lines crossing the plating that would need to be smoothed down later once everything had fully reconnected and formed back in. The rest of his frame was littered with similar welds. Jazz was going to be very, very sore.

When Prowl stepped close enough to mesh fields he teeked his mate's residual satisfaction and brought a chair over to sit in as he waited for Jazz to wake, or it was time for him to leave for class, but almost as soon as their fields relaxed against each other Prowl heard systems starting to boot, and a few kliks later, Jazz's optics were flickering on.

"Pantera," he murmured, reaching up to his mate's neck. Prowl leaned into the contact and the kiss it was demanding with grateful submission and pride.

"Love you, Saxo," he whispered when their mouths finally parted. "I understand you did well."

Jazz hummed softly and kept Prowl pulled close, touching their helms together. "Need to learn to do better, though."

"You will," Prowl was confident of it. "You learn everything you set yourself to."

"Mm. How's...um...Academy," Jazz asked. "Mortar signed off on your application, right? You got in this round?"

"It is good, if dull," Prowl chuckled softly. "Yes, he sighed off and I got in. The medic was surprised at my grade of construction, but since it meant he didn't have to upgrade me, he was happy about it. I have a suspicion that I know more than some of my instructors, but I'm not telling them that."

That got a smile out of Jazz. "That is because _my_ mate has the fastest processor in this city," he hummed, trilling with pride. "I'm happy for you, my love."

"Thank you," Prowl leaned in for a quick kiss. "I hope your training program makes you as content with existence as mine is. I have missed being a social pillar."

"By social pillar, of course, you mean fun-killing rule-enforcer," Jazz teased fondly, the harmonics beneath his voice full of adoration. He sobered. "I hope it does too. So far it's...reminded me of everything I never wanted to be. And why I would still choose this in a sparkpulse."

"If it gives you what you need, even if it is not what you wanted, it is a good thing," Prowl murmured, stroking Jazz's cheek affectionately. "And yes, of course I mean fun-killing, every watchful, scary rule-enforcer that everyone knows they can trust to be fair and listen. Have they told you how long your training will be?"

"The full course is nine vorns," Jazz said. "There'll be some metacycles when I don't come home." He nuzzled into Prowl's hand.

"Will you be able to warn me when that will happen?" Prowl asked softly. The idea made his spark contract, but he could bury himself in work and survive. He'd been alone much of his existence. He knew how, and ... he did have Radiance.

"Not sure," Jazz murmured. "I'll try. Pretty strict comm allowances, too," he sighed, and looked up at his lover. "I would give anything to have a spark bond to you."

"We will," Prowl promised, though the tension rose sharply in his field. "He knows?"

Jazz answered with a wry smile as he traced the welding on his chest. "My trainer? He knows everything." He glanced around the room. "Said it was safe to talk in these, but..." His dataport spiraled open. "Prefer this."

"Familiar," Prowl nodded, relaxing as he plugged into his lover. ~Safe. I will miss you deeply when you are gone, my love.~

~As will I,~ Jazz said, sighing with contentment to feel the closeness of the hardline, firewalls lowered down to the innermost cores, systems fully peripheral. ~Said my designation out loud for the first time in ... vorns. Felt so strange.~

~I'm sure,~ Prowl continued to stroke Jazz's cheek as he settled into a position that he could recharge in, sitting in the chair with his upper chassis braced on the berth. ~Hard to believe everything that's happened so quickly. We only left two vorns ago. Now we have the beginning of a real existence. We won't need to run again, most likely. Not if we remain careful. Have you seen what I'll look like on graduation?~ he couldn't help the small flare of excitement as he offered up the two upgrade stages. The first with an Enforcer alt but unarmed and in his current dark colors, the next as a full Enforcer, black and white colors, shoulder mounted missiles and all.

~Impressive,~ Jazz purred, snuggling as close to his mate as he could get. ~Though I hope those come off, you're gonna be hard ta pin otherwise.~

Prowl's engine gave a heady rev. ~They don't come off, but they do transform into storage. Don't worry, I'm not going to give up our games over a frame mod.~

~Good,~ Jazz said firmly, then smiled a little bitterly. ~Looks like it's going to be me who's grateful that Radiance is around for you when _I'm_ too busy for a while, instead of the other way around.~

~Such is fair, and the peace that is triad,~ Prowl shared thoughts passed down to him in coding that he'd never actually known. ~You deserve a full existence, not one bound solely to me.~

~I will always be bound to you,~ Jazz said, nuzzling him. ~We just have to get some business taken care of.~

* * *

The graduation ceremony was nearing its end before a dark form slipped through the crowds and sat down next to Jazz.

::There you are,:: Jazz said. ::I was worried they would get to him before you got here.::

::Work,:: Radiance said, frowning, wings held up high and tense. ::Didn't want to miss this, though.::

Jazz smiled at their occasional lover. They knew perfectly well that if not for the restrictions they'd placed on speed, Radiance would have already started courting them, which left the mech with a century or so to wait and prove he was even courting material. ::He's near the end, you haven't missed him.::

::I'm not surprised. He's too exceptional not to earn a special commendation.:: Radiance smiled at Jazz before focusing on the stage as the six mecha who had earned public comments on their potential came out.

Jazz's optics brightened the moment Prowl stepped forward, third in line, with his new black and white patrol markings and the fresh polish that made his armor gleam in the sunlight. The shoulder-mounted launchers were on display for the ceremony, and mixed in with everything else, made for a damn impressive looking mech.

Jazz's engines immediately kicked up into a low purr, earning himself a chuckle from Radiance, who was also watching Prowl with a bit of an impressed smile.

::He's gorgeous,:: Jazz said, shivering.

::Agreed,:: Radiance grinned at him before focusing back on the mech they both desired, listing as the two ahead of him, one a new sergeant, the other a detective. Prowl was the best of the new recruits. ::Impressive in so many ways. I've never met a mech as exceptional as Pantera.::

Jazz hummed his agreement, not even hearing the speaker as he talked about the accomplishments of the first two mecha before moving on to Prowl. ::And of all the things he could do,:: Jazz said, shaking his head fondly, ::He chooses to become a pillar of society.::

::And do so from the bottom,:: Radiance added. ::He's more than good enough to go right to officer or detective. He was created to serve, I think. Created to be of middle rank, never the commander, never the guttersmech.::

Jazz's gaze flickered over to Radiance for a moment before shifting back to Prowl, who was thanking the speaker and accepting his badge before walking over to join the first two, as the next graduate stepped forward. ::He is a skilled organizer and supervisor, and disciplinarian. But you're right. He has never desired true leadership.::

::Do you know if he was kindled or sparked?:: Radiance asked, careful to include the harmonics that Jazz did not need to answer.

::Kindled,:: Jazz said, smiling as he saw Prowl's gaze roaming the crowd, searching him out.

Radiance hummed and dropped that theory. He smiled as he met Prowl's now red gaze, unsurprised when it returned to Jazz after only a brief acknowledgement. He had a long way to go before he was truly part of what they shared, but he was glad just to have a chance at it.

::I think I am going to enjoy congratulating him,:: Jazz purred a little while later as the ceremony concluded.

::I'm sure he'll enjoy it very much,:: Radiance accepted his exclusion gracefully as they rose to work their way towards Prowl, who was working his way towards them.

"Hello, love," Jazz purred, drawing his mate into a deep kiss as soon as they reached him. "I do believe I have the most handsome mech in this city as my very own."

"I'm glad you approve," Prowl's purr was deeper, his engine upgraded and fine-tuned a bit. His field expressed a bit of embarrassment at the complement, but also that he liked it. "You're looking whole and sane."

"So far," Jazz grinned, completely ignoring Radiance in his focus on Prowl. "Do you have some free time now? I've got three joors before I need to leave."

Prowl nodded. "My first shift doesn't begin for two orns." He leaned in for a warm kiss before shifting to give Radiance a quick kiss and accepted the pat on the shoulder before the black mech left, then focused on Jazz. "Where do you wish to go?"

"How pissed would your roommates be if we were in there?" Jazz asked. "They have the rest of the orn to pack and clear out, three joors is nothing."

"They wouldn't care," Prowl chuckled, already guiding his mate towards the academy barracks. "But they aren't likely to leave if they walk in. Breaker will just ignore us. Venatio and Agito will just settle in to watch."

"As long as they don't touch," Jazz purred. "You're all mine right now."

"I doubt either of them are that crazy," Prowl chuckled, stealing another kiss and reveling in the attention of his mate.

* * *

Radiance chimed politely at the door, waited a few nanokliks, and then grinned as the predictable comm ping came in.

::What are you doing chiming at the door like a stranger!:: came the exasperated voice of his creator. ::You have the entrance codes, get up here!::

Radiance chuckled as he entered the code and stepped inside. ::This is not my residence anymore,:: he said as he headed up towards the second level of the private home and the small sitting room where he knew he would find Contact. ::Nor has it been for centuries. It would be impolite to enter unannounced, you raised me better than that.::

::I raised you to visit your creators more often is what I did,:: Contact grumbled, but as Radiance entered the room, he found the mech waiting for him with a smile and open arms.

"Hello Contact," he said warmly, happily stepping into the embrace.

"It is wonderful to see you, dear spark," Contact said, squeezing him. "Though I'm afraid it's just me you'll find here tonight."

"That's all right," Radiance assured him, and walked his creator back to the lounge he'd been resting on, moving the novel he'd been reading out of the way before sitting. "It's you I was hoping to find, anyway."

Contact's field flared out warmly and he all but preened. "Can I get you anything? I don't have much on hand at the moment, you should have told me you were coming over, but there are always a few flavors of high grade around, and we might still have some of those copper cakes if Mira didn't notice them before work..."

"I'm fine," Radiance tried to insist, but Contact seemed deaf to that, and after another dozen or so kliks, Radiance was smiling fondly and thanking his creator as he accepted a small cake and a flute of lightly carbonized high grade with a few silver shavings in the bottom.

"So," Contact said as he finally settled himself down, holding a cube of regular high grade. "What brings you all the way out here just to visit me? Because I know it's not just for a visit." He fixed his creation with a stern look.

"Why can't it just be for a visit?" Radiance asked indignantly, and when the only response was a raised optic ridge, he huffed. "All right... actually, it's because I need advice."

Contact looked delighted. "I don't think you've asked me for advice since you were a mechling," he said. "Ask away."

Radiance nodded, and fidgeted with his high grade. "It's... well, actually, I was wondering about, when you courted Mira and Brava."

"Sweetspark, you know that story," Contact said, bemused.

"Yeah, I know," Radiance said, and sighed. "I know the story, but I don't know what it was like, courting a mated pair. How to go about doing that without, I don't know, making a mess of things. What it feels like trying to win two mecha at once who are already happily mated and don't even really need a third."

There as a pause, and then Contact's optics brightened. "Have you found a pair? Are you courting for a triad?" the dispatcher asked excitedly. "You have no idea how long we've been hoping you would find a triad!"

Radiance winced a little. "Yeah, but just, slow down. There is no courting. Not officially."

"Well what's the problem?" Contact asked, frowning. "If they're not the ones courting you, as long as they're well settled and accept the offer, you should be set."

"That's...that is the problem," Radiance said. "They're not well settled. And the one I would court immediately if he weren't attached is the one I definitely _can't_ court. So I'm waiting."

"How long have they been together?"

Radiance cringed internally. "See... you're about to give me that exasperated creator look, and the problem is, you're _really_ good at the exasperated creator look."

"I won't," Contact said.

Radiance snorted. "Yes, you will."

"No, I won't."

"Fine," Radiance said. "They've been together for five vorns."

"Five-_five_ vorns?"

"And there's the look," Radiance said with a smug smile. "Yep, exasperated creator look."

Contact scowled at him. "Radiance, dearest, a pair at five vorns, you're going to be waiting at least a century before they even know if they're truly mated, much less open to a triad."

"But they are mated," Radiance insisted. "They're more dedicated to each other than almost any pair I've ever met. And, it's bizarre, honestly. I almost have to wonder if there's spark resonance there, because they act like they've known each other their entire lives."

Contact hummed thoughtfully. "Are they aware of your interest?"

"Yes," Radiance affirmed.

"And?"

"And they're open to the idea, but they've made it clear it will be a long time before anything official starts. I've gotten away with some very, _very_ casual courting with the older one, but I don't dare try anything with the younger one, not yet."

"Why not?" Contact questioned. "He's the one you were first interested in, then? He's less settled?"

"Much less settled," Radiance said, and shook his head ruefully. "I don't know the details, but I know that he was abused, and it created a glitch that forced them to give up their sparklings, which caused...problems of its own..."

"They had sparklings at five vorns together?" Contact asked, sounding decidedly suspicious in a very Protective Creator way.

"Not together," Radiance clarified. "They were carrying when they met. Saxo-the younger-he was far too young for whatever happened and it really messed with him."

"How young is he?" Contact asked curiously.

"Er," Radiance said, already half-wincing from the look he knew he was going to get. "Somewhere around six vorns into adult upgrades..."

"Radiance!"

"He doesn't act like it though!" Radiance protested.

"That's practically a mechling!" Contact said. "Mecha that age hardly know what they want for dinner, much less in a mate!"

"This one does," Radiance insisted. "I can't teek his age, and I still have a hard time believing it just from knowing him." He paused. "Though he is kind of like a mechling when it comes to his interfacing. In that insatiable way."

"You've interfaced with him?" Contact asked.

"Them," Radiance corrected. "Always them. And yes. And ... it's good, it's really good. I know he's young and they're new, but I _know_ I want this."

Contact sighed, looking at his creation with a mix of fondness, love, and concern. "I just don't want you to get hurt again, dear spark. I trust you to know what you want, but this sounds so..."

"Crazy?" Radiance supplied.

"Crazy, yes," Contact said, nodding.

Radiance set the high grade and cake down and reached over to clasp his creator's hands warmly in his own. "I'm moving slow. We're all taking our time, none of us want to rush. I see their berth maybe every three metacycles, sometimes less. Saxo isn't even finished with his SpecOp training, and-"

"SpecOp training?" Contact interrupted, startled. "They let a mech his age into that program?"

"I told you he's special. They both are. Pantera's older, but the _processor_ on that mech, Contact, it's incredible the things he can do. I play strategy games against him a couple times a decaorn and I've never won, not once."

Silence.

"Contact?"

"Hang on, I'm torn between being impressed and irritated," Contact grumbled.

Radiance chuckled. "Be impressed. It's no slight against me."

"Hmph. Fine. So you're taking is slow, which sounds good for this situation. What were you wanting advice about?"

"Well, I know the protocol for courting a mated pair, that's easy enough," Radiance said. "Just, what's it like? Does that feeling like you're just sort of on the outside watching go away?"

"It does," Contact said, nodding, smiling gently at his creation. "It can take a while, though, especially if the pair is really well and truly devoted. Even if they both like you, there is a lot of affection to catch up on. And it can really hurt sometimes."

Radiance huffed. "Yeah," he agreed.

"But sweet spark, don't give up," Contact said. "A triad would be so good for you, you're coded and sparked to want one. And especially with your work, having three helps spread everything out and makes it more manageable. When you can't be there, or when you're hurt, they'll have each other." He hesitated. "That's what happened with Nimbus, isn't it," he said quietly, half asking, half stating. "You didn't talk about it much after he left."

"Yeah," Radiance sighed, and gave a stiff, one-shouldered shrug. "It wasn't his fault, there was just too much for him to handle."

"You've got a funny idea of not his fault," Contact said dryly. "As I seem to recall, plans for a bonding were well underway before he started-" He stopped when he saw the look on his creation's face. "That probably isn't your favorite subject."

"Not particularly," Radiance said with a wry smile. "But I don't mind. And it really _wasn't_ all his fault. If I wasn't home enough to realize what was happening, I wasn't home enough for him."

"Regular spark merging with another when you have an intended bonded is _not_ acceptable, no matter what," Contact snarled, his aggressive side making a rare appearance. "You break things off before it even starts, you don't lie about it."

Radiance tilted his head and smiled faintly. "I don't think I've heard you growl like that since I was a mechling."

"Oh, I growled a lot, you just weren't around to hear it," Contact said, then shook his head and huffed fondly, lifting a hand to Radiance's face. "You are entirely too selfless, dear spark."

Radiance grinned. "Yeah, but don't let that get around. I have a reputation to keep up."

Contact gave him a look. "Like that reputation that you're an easy 'face?"

The grin got wider. "You have _no_ idea how much more willing mecha are to go out for a casual drink when they think I'm just a slutty off-duty cop. Get a lot of testimony that way."

Contact frowned. "Yes, but..."

"Contact," Radiance said warmly. "You really think I care what street scum think of me?"

"This pair you're looking at, they respect you?"

"Of course they do," Radiance said.

"Good. Tell me about them," Contact said, happily shifting the conversation back to the future. "What could be wonderful enough to catch my stunning creation's optic."

Radiance chuckled and picked his high grade back up, relaxing back against the lounge as they talked.

Some joors later, he heard voices downstairs and then the sound of his other two creators coming upstairs to join them. He exchanged a smile with Contact, then stood and braced himself.

"Radiance!" came Mira's warm trill as she ran in and caught him in a tight hug. Brava followed right behind and instead of hugging him, cuffed Radiance around the back of the helm.

"What's this about you courting a mechling?" she demanded.

"Contact!" Radiance said, rolling his optics. "I am _not_ courting a mechling. I'm not even courting, and he's an adult."

"Uh-huh," Brava said, heading over to greet Contact with a kiss. "You tell him all about the wringer I put you through?"

Contact smiled as he stroked his mate's helm. "Oh yes," he assured her. "Luckily for him, his pair seems much more open."

"I had to make sure you were worthy of Mira," Brava purred, looking lovingly back over at the other femme and Radiance.

"We're so happy for you," Mira said, nuzzling Radiance. "You'll keep us all updated."

"Of course I will," Radiance promised. "But really, all of you, it is far too early to be celebrating."

"Our sparkling's first possible triad?" Contact said. "It's not possible for it to be too early to celebrate."

"Yes, however I am filthy," Brava announced, straightening. "Chased some drug dealers through the gutters for a while, once I'm clean we can interrogate him. Join me?" she purred as she waltzed over to Mira, stroking a finger under her chin.

Mira purred in response and Contact's wings lifted up as he watched them, his optics brightening tellingly.

"Go on," Radiance chuckled. "I'll wait here. Have you two had dinner yet?"

"Not yet," Brava said.

"Then I'll get something set out, take your time," Radiance said, and headed downstairs, smiling knowingly, to wait as his creators headed to their washrack.


	27. Settling In

Starcrossed 27: Settling In  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Creator's coming! Creator's coming!" Sunstreaker ran to his brother from the window where he'd spotted the Praxian Enforcer alt coming towards the estate.

Sideswipe perked, looked at Raela, who smiled at him and waved them on their way to go greet Prowl, and first ran to the window so he could wave down before following his impatient twin out the door.

"You two stay out of the main hallways!" Raela called after them.

"We will!" Sideswipe promised before they dashed off through the halls, creating no small amount of havoc amidst the smooth flow of traffic as they ran towards the entrance. They burst out the door and into the waiting arms of their sire, who hugged them tightly.

"Hello, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe," Prowl nuzzled the pair.

"Hello Creator," Sideswipe said, nuzzling back, while Sunstreaker's engines purred happily to see Prowl.

"We thought you were coming this orn," Sunstreaker said. "Raela smiles at us a lot when you're coming."

Prowl chuckled. "She knows we all enjoy it when I can come. I was thinking we would go to Jocuri's."

The identical grins he got were answer enough, and Prowl stepped back to transform, opening a door for them to climb in.

"How long are you staying?" Sunstreaker asked as they settled down.

"Two orns," Prowl said as he drove through the servant's entrance and away from the estate. "I can't take much longer off from my duties to Praxus."

"Amberwave says you lowered yourself to working for commoners," Sideswipe said, and Sunstreaker immediately punched his brother in the arm and hissed a shushing order at him.

"He is right to be disturbed by it," Prowl said quietly. "I am worth far more than I am currently valued. That will change in time. Like all mecha, I must begin at the lowest level and work my way up. I will be an authority figure again, in time."

Sideswipe hummed, looking out the window. "That will be good," he said.

"Very good," Sunstreaker agreed.

"How is Saxo?" Sideswipe asked.

Prowl couldn't help the small flicker of surprise at the shift between his last visit and this one. In less than four vorns, Sideswipe had gone from calling Jazz Carrier to using his designation. It saddened him, but it was also a good step forward in healing for the twins. Jazz could never be their creator. It was best that his creations moved away from any thought of him as other than Prowl's mate.

"He is healing, slowly," Prowl glossed over so much of what happened with Jazz. Including that he had a new function he was training for. That was information the pair did not need to know. "Radiance is doing well. He's been good for Jazz." He didn't hide that Radiance was good for him too.

"Can you bring Radiance next time?" Sunstreaker asked. "He was really cool."

"If he can get time off when I do," Prowl told them as he merged onto a major road. "He's the commander of SWAT for the precinct. He may not be allowed out of the city for this long."

"Not even one-" Sideswipe said, before Sunstreaker tackled him and clamped a hand over his mouth.

"D'you think we can go to the race tracks tomorrow?" he asked brightly.

"I would enjoy doing that," Prowl agreed with a warm trill of genuine anticipation. "How has the vorn gone for you? Have you been behaving for Raela and Amberwave?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

"Mostly," Sideswipe modified.

"Raela is nicer," Sunstreaker added.

"Her function ensures that," Prowl chuckled. "She's a caretaker. Amberwave is the estate seneschal."

"Amberwave is _boring_," Sideswipe said.

"No he isn't," Sunstreaker argued. "He knows lots of things. You just have to listen."

Sideswipe huffed, worked his way out of Sunstreaker's hold, and tackled his brother in turn, pinning him.

Prowl simply laughed, his field rich with good humor, joy at having his creations with him and a bit of teasing. "I hope you don't think I'm boring like Amberwave."

"Nope," Sideswipe said, struggling with keeping his twin pinned.

"Course not," Sunstreaker said, squirming, and knocked Sideswipe off. "Amberwave never smiles."

"Yet I am a seneschal," Prowl reminded them. "My charges often complained that I never smiled. Yet I was respected by them, I cared for them, and they cared for me."

"But you smile with us," Sunstreaker said.

"And Amberwave doesn't care about us," Sideswipe huffed.

"Yes he does," the yellow twin argued. "He's just quiet about it. Like Creator."

"A _lot_ quiet about it," Sideswipe said.

"Will we be seneschals?" Sunstreaker asked, without a pause for Prowl to reply to anything.

"He does care about you both. You are his charges," Prowl said firmly. "No seneschal worthy of the title is anything less than fully dedicated to their charge. The estates, the servants, the nobles we serve. It makes us what we are. It is possible that Sunstreaker will be able to support the seneschal upgrades, though if he does become one, he will need Sideswipe's social skills to be at his best. United you will always be stronger than individually."

Sunstreaker hummed thoughtfully at that. "I think so," he agreed. "I think I would like that."

"Amberwave will be very pleased," Prowl told him, but the real reward was how thick the pride-joy was in Prowl's field. "Tell him, study well. A skilled seneschal with a valuable frame-line and good upgrades can be worth more to a House than its minor members. We keep the world they enjoy functioning smoothly for them. Your cover includes a quality heritage, though not quite as prestigious as the truth would be."

"Because you are the best, aren't you," Sunstreaker said proudly, cuddling against his sire.

"Yes," Prowl smiled through his field at them. "My line is the most prestigious, and I was acknowledged as the finest they had produced that generation. It is why I was bred as often as I was before I became your sire. It is important you do not become so well known or valued while _he_ still exists, however. While you have done well to avoid detection, if you need to kindle there will be difficulties that can not be hidden."

"Like what?" Sideswipe chirped.

"The most obvious is that if either of you are to carry, both of you and a third must be involved in the kindling. As a sire, it will be very difficult for either of you to kindle without your brother involved. You are one spark in two frames. When it comes to acts of the spark, creation, bonding and survival, you are both needed to make it work smoothly."

"Ohh," Sunstreaker said. "So mecha would know we are twins."

"And that's what the bad mech looks for," Sideswipe hummed. "Is he going to look for us forever?"

"Until he is destroyed, yes," Prowl said grimly, making the exit for the family entertainment hub of the city that centered around Jocuri's Amusement Park. "We are working hard to do that. Until he is gone, though, it is critical that you hide as well as we are."

"We will," Sideswipe promised. "I don't want anything to hurt Sunny."

"Or Sides," Sunstreaker said. "We're always very careful."

"I know, and I'm very proud of you both," Prowl trilled.

"Look!" Sideswipe said, jumping up suddenly as the rides came into view. "There's my favorite one!"

"We have all orn," Prowl chuckled as he drove in. "You do not have to return until half a joor before berth time."

The twins both trilled excitedly and bounded out of Prowl's cab as soon as he stopped, jumping up to grab his hands to pull him into the park, ready to spend the rest of the orn with their sire.

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::Speeder, eighteen over, ID 9876HKTR7U23MGH7.:: Prowl commed into dispatch as his lights began to flash at the average build in front of him. Then on a scrambled line to his partner, ::He'll bolt.::

He felt Fevor's mental optic ridge raise through his partner's field. ::What makes you think-oh, and there he goes,:: he grumbled as he revved his engines up and accelerated after the speeder. ::The Pit, rookie, how do you spot those?::

::Many vorns disciplining juveniles,:: Prowl answered as he kept even with his mentor on the beat. ::There's a twitch in their field.::

Fevor's engines rumbled deeply. ::I'm supposed to be the one teaching you,:: he complained good-naturedly, weaving around a vehicle that was too slow to move to the side for them.

A quick databurst from Prowl interrupted his musings and he dedicated enough of his processors to opening the plan. A few vorns ago it would have stalled his engines. Now he simply wondered what his partner had once been that he was this now and so good at it. ::Agreed.::

Fevor tracked Prowl's movements as he nearly fishtailed to make a turn that would bring him along a not-quite-parallel course while Fevor kept their target's attention. The older Enforcer had to give his rookie credit for tenacity and lateral thinking. Most would be content to chase a speeder. Prowl needed to _catch_, and he'd never failed at that once he set himself to it.

He kept as many sensors as he could dedicated to monitoring his partner while he pretended to lag behind the youth they were pursuing, getting him to slow his speed to something safer on the corners, now that he seemed to have lost half of his pursuit and was outgunning the older enforcer.

Two kliks up the road, Prowl reappeared, shooting through an intersection that had been timed to a perfect halt by the traffic drones, right where the road narrowed and with just enough space for him to cut in front of the speeder. Fevor gunned his acceleration and came up right behind the youth, lights flashing while Prowl forced the speed down, then to a stop.

Not that their target was willing to be blocked in and be still. A transformation sequence began, and Fevor belatedly realized that his partner had begun first. It gave Prowl just enough of a lead on moving to body block the runner to the ground and pin him with little more than greater mass.

"Credits to scrap that 9876HKTR7U23MGH7 isn't his real ID ping," Prowl commented casually, causing his prey to stop struggling out of surprise.

"Mm, we'll find out soon enough," Fevor said, also transforming back into root mode to help wave traffic around before the drones could get there to redirect everything. He called in an update, then walked over to the pair.

"Hey, mech, look," the flashy-painted youth began as the two stern-faced enforcers looked down at him. "Had the music up, didn't even realize you were back there."

"Then once we have confirmed your identity and that you are clean, you will be released with only a speeding ticket," Prowl said as he pulled the mech to his pedes for Fevor to cuff him, then escorted him to the walkway to be out of the traffic lanes.

"Yeah but...I'll be late, an' all," the youth protested. "Got work, y'know?"

"Oh?" Fevor said conversationally as he they waited for the transport. "Where do you work?"

"Docks," the mech said smoothly. "For Praxus Imports."

"What's your supervisor's designation? We'll give him a comm and let him know what happened so he's expecting it." Fevor offered.

"Er..." The youth shifted uncomfortably.

"What designation do you go by?" Prowl shifted tactics a touch.

"Harper," came the well-rehearsed, casual answer. "Seriously, you gonna drag me all the way in just to verify my ID?"

"Uh-huh," Fevor said.

"Sounds like a waste of your time, mech," Harper said.

"It's what the city pays us to do," Fevor shrugged just as easily and paused as the transport settled. "Your catch, your file," he gave Prowl a playful salute that got a dangerous grin back.

Prowl gave Harper a light push towards the arriving transport while Fevor watched, waiting until the doors sealed and it took off before reentering traffic and continuing on his patrol.

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Jazz regarded the bleeding, burnt mech that was hanging by the wrists before him, head cocked, tapping his charged dagger thoughtfully against his chin, paying no attention to the way it was shocking him but pleased by the look it was putting on his prey's face.

"Are you in a more friendly mood yet?" he asked, starting to walk a slow circle around him. "You know you could make it out of here in mostly one piece still."

"Go to the Pit," the mech spat at him.

"Been there, love," Jazz said, smirking, continuing his stroll for a few more rounds until he came in front of the mech again. He took his prey by the throat, holding the dagger under the chin, and leaned in close. "Though I bet all the interrogators use that line." He cocked his head a little and shifted his weight, angling for the best view he could give the cameras of the mech's face. "We can keep playing like this for orns if you want to, _or_ you can give me a designation. Just one, little, simple designation of your target."

"And let you know who to protect?" Defiance flared in the mech's optics despite the pain of his frame. "No."

Jazz paused, and a moment of confusion, followed by humor rippled through his field. "We're not in that business, love," he said. "The mecha we want protected _are_ protected. I want to know your target so we can keep the fallout under wraps, and make sure none of ours get caught up in your messy crossfire." He stroked a warm, gentle hand down the front of his victim's chassis, avoiding every wound without even looking, teasing at seams and plating. "After all, we caught you easy enough, and we're not interested in taking the chance of your next 'agent' getting mixed up with one of ours. And who knows, our interests might even align. You get me?" he purred.

"You work for the government," the mech spat at him.

Jazz gave him an awful, pitying smile. "No, I don't," he said, and stepped back, taking the gentle touch away. "_I_ work for credits, and because I like the way you sound when you scream, and because sparks are so beautiful when they gutter. To be honest with you, I'm hoping you won't crack." He flashed the mech a grin and pulled a torch from his subspace, flicking it on, holding the white-hot flame up. "Designation, please."

Fear flickered across the mech's face. "Who's paying you then?"

"I'm pretty sure you're the glitch hanging from the ceiling who's supposed to be answering questions," Jazz hummed. "But since you're just _so_ persuasive, I'll let you in on a little secret. My employer? Is smart enough to keep me in the dark on that detail. Just in case of this exact scenario. Tell me, is yours?"

He stepped forward on the last glyph, weaving slightly and grabbed the back of the mech's neck to pull him in for a deep, biting kiss while the other hand reached down and slipped the torch into the open hip joint, pushing it right up against the dense metal bearing in the center.

Even if the mech was willing to answer through Jazz's kiss, his scream would have swallowed the answer, drowning out even the sound of wires sizzling and snapping in the center of the joint and the sound of metal slipping and bending, an entire frame's weight pushing down on the weakening joint.

Jazz pulled the torch out and leaned back, baring energon-coated teeth and letting his very real arousal flicker through his field, caressing along the other. "So," he purred, lifting the torch to where the mech could see it, the backs of his fingers and hands coated with liquid metal runoff. "Designation?"

The mech's field was full of sickened fear, his frame shook, his voice wavered, but still he managed, "No."

"Oh darling," Jazz said. "You know just what to say to make my spark race. In fact, I enjoy it so much I'll even give you a few more joors to decide whether you live or die."

There was an odd, uncertain flicker in the mech's optics. "You'll...you'll what?"

"You heard me," Jazz said, shrugging. "Of course, you'll be screaming the entire time, so I'd make my mind up now if I were you, and I'll get back to you on that." He licked his lips, grinned, and lifted the torch again.

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Seven joors later, Jazz gave a disgusted look at the mess of metal and wires that was hanging in front of him, knocked offline from the pain, and walked out of the room, almost running into Whiplash, who had been observing the entire time.

"Not cracking, this one," the matte black mech commented.

"Not a bit," Jazz said, looking at the video feed of the limply swaying mech, who looked much worse than his damage actually was. "Either he's a True Believer in his cause, or he takes pain better than I do. Since I find the latter hard to believe..."

Whiplash snorted in agreement. "True Believer then. I came to the same conclusion. Lot of those lately, startin' to concern me."

Jazz frowned. "Zealots. Think he's with the others we've had?"

"That'd be my guess. These aren't just opportunists or assassins for hire. They _really_ believe in their cause."

Jazz gestured at the screen. "How do you crack one of those?"

Whiplash shook his head. "You don't. You have your fun with it, and then you put it out of its misery and you _destroy_ it. Make sure those that sent it don't ever find out, or then it'll be a martyr, and that's the last thing we want right now."

"But-" Jazz protested.

Whiplash squeezed his arm. "Yeah, I know. Pit, keep trying, can't hurt, and if it'll make you feel better. But everyone runs into these, not much you can do about it."

Jazz nodded, focused on the victim on the screen, optics glittering. "He'll talk," he said. "I'm going to _make._ _Sure._ That he talks."

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Two and a half orns later, Jazz stroked a single sharpened claw down the mech's back strut, and flicked the torch on right next to his audial, gaze fixed on his prey, arousal and excitement thick through his field, grinning at the way the mech was whimpering now. "That was fun," he purred, licking energon from his lips, spike jutting out and rubbing against the mech's aft. "Let's do it again."

"No," the pathetic, all but broken creature whimpered, pleaded, for the pain to stop.

"But I'm enjoying myself, don't stop now," Jazz said, pressing flush, lips to audial, torch held up clearly where the mech could see. He lowered his voice to the faintest whisper. "Come on, let me get one more round in before you give, my super'll pull me out of here and I haven't gotten off yet."

"Why should I let you get off?" the mech rasped.

"Because I love to, especially when you're _screaming_ around me," Jazz purred. He brought the torch in closer and reached around to claw at the mech's pelvis. "Come on, _please_, just a little more. Just say you won't tell me and they won't pull me off you yet." The torch moved down, brushed the outer edges of the flame against the spike panel. "Bet you'll scream _really_ good here."

"Ratbat!" the mech keened, trying to pull away from the torch despite his broken frame and Jazz's mass directly behind him. "I was after Senator Ratbat."

Jazz's lips curled up and he nipped at the mech's neck, then the torch flicked off, he stepped away, and the arousal dissipated from his field. His spike slid back and he cleared his vocalizer out once, twice, shook himself, then subspaced the torch and switched it out for a blade, walking around to where the mech could see him. "Thank you," he said, and held the weapon up. "You get a choice now."

The mech just hung there, optics not even moving up towards him, so Jazz reached out and patted his cheek a few times. "Hey. Attention." He waved the knife around until he was sure the victim had seen it. "We can dump you in a cell and give you energon but no medical care, or I can drive this through your spark. It's your choice. If you don't pick one, you get the latter. More resource efficient."

Cracked red optics focused on Jazz. "The cell. I'll live because you don't want me to."

Jazz smiled. "Hardly matters to me," he said, then patted his cheek once more. "You take care." He left the room, only allowing his very unresolved arousal and frustration to bloom outwards once he was standing with Whiplash, and growled. "Fragger. Think that was his actual target?"

"If it's not, it's a likely one," Whiplash huffed. "Ratbat's one of the worst as far as the rebels are concerned. I'm not sure even he'd disagree. Creepy, credit-centric one he is." He smiled and regarded his subordinate. "I hope your mate knows how to deal with that charge."

"He does," Jazz said, frowning. "And he better be off duty or I'm going to make such a nuisance out of myself that he'll _have_ to pursue and arrest. I can go?"

"Clean up, and you can go," Whiplash said, nodding.

Jazz fought not to run as he made his way up to a level where his comms could get through, twitching at the intolerably slow-feeling lift before stepping out and headed to the washracks. ::Where are you?:: he sent to his mate, trying not to growl.

::About to go to the shift passdown,:: Prowl replied with sub-harmonics thick with anticipation at seeing his mate for the first time in more than five orns. ::I'll be wherever you want me then.::

::Get your aft home,:: Jazz said, stepping under the heated solvent spray. ::_Primus_ I need a good frag, you have no idea.::

::Will do, love,:: Prowl rumbled, giving Jazz no doubt of what he had in mind, before cutting the comm. He shivered as he turned on the shower to get the worst of the surface gunk off him before going to work at cleaning himself. It was a comfortable, almost soothing routine now, and it allowed him to drive to their apartment without breaking to many laws, even as excited as he was.

Jazz was there half a groon after he was, field and frame reeking with an unresolved charge that had been building for orns, the arousal almost too thick for even the ripple of surprise to get out when he teeked Prowl in much the same condition. He grabbed his mate in a kiss, slamming him back against the wall, grinding their frames together. "You found a chase, didn't you," he grinned, reaching down between them to press palm to Prowl's spike cover. Both covers snapped open immediately as Prowl groaned, grinding into the touch as his spike pressed out, eager to feel his mate's touch.

"Yes," Prowl shuddered, lost to his own charge and the heated welcome of his mate. "Take me, spread your legs for me, want to scream your designation and make you scream mine."

Jazz groaned, hand moving lower to press fingers into the slick valve offered to him while his own spike pressurized, rubbing flush and hot against his lover's. "Can't," he gasped, shaking. "Can't-please-just, need-" He grabbed Prowl's wrist with his free hand and pulled it down between their bodies, wrapping his mate's fingers around their spikes, thrusting into the contact with a low moan. "_Touch._"

Prowl reached up with his free hand to cup the base of Jazz's helm and neck, drawing him into a passionate kiss while his hand stroked and squeezed, paying much more attention to the ruffles of his mate's spike that pleasuring his own, making him jerk and keen, panting and desperate for the almost painfully high charge to release.

Lubricant ran down Jazz's thrusting fingers, covering his hand, and he matched the rhythm to Prowl's movement, stroking as deep as he could with the way his arm was pinned between them. Less than ten strokes, and Jazz shouted, seizing against his lover and shooting transfluid onto his chest, his spike, his hand. His vents kicked up and he shuddered, gasping, and didn't stop the movement of his fingers in Prowl's valve.

His mate at least somewhat sated, Prowl's face came to rest against the crook of Jazz's neck as he leaned back and hooked a leg around Jazz's hip, opening himself up to the attention. Fingers weren't nearly as good as a spike, but his mate knew how to work him up and he wasn't resisting the stimulation as his valve tightened and worked the shallow penetration.

Jazz curled his arm around the back of Prowl's head as he moved, twisting his wrist and crooking at all the right angles to feel amazing without overloading him, not wanting to get Prowl _too_ satisfied before he was through. His own charge was still high, enough to keep his spike extended and throbbing despite the overload, and he wanted Prowl's to stay the same. It wasn't every orn his lover came home hot from a chase.

"Remember that thrill," he purred against Prowl's audial, "How it feels when they take off and you get to _catch_."

Prowl shuddered with a moan, his processors immediately replaying his last chase and capture. Against the wall his doorwings quivered as he tried to thrust into the contact.

"You love it," Jazz continued, engines rumbling deeply, rocking back against his mate. "Love when they bolt, when they turn into prey, when you get to go after them, getting closer every klik..."

"Pushing my engines, my skills, calculating their every move, how to avoid traffic," Prowl shuddered, moaning as he gripped his mate's shoulders. "They don't stand a chance but they don't know it yet."

"They don't know what's after them," Jazz said, low and seductive. "They have no idea the speed and strength chasing behind, catching up, not realizing where you are..." His fingers sped up, increasing with Prowl's pants and gasps. "Not until you're right there, out of nowhere, making them try so hard to get away but they can't, they're trapped..." Jazz shifted his weight, subtle enough that Prowl didn't notice or didn't care, lost as he was. "You pounce, they struggle, and you..."

Between one sparkbeat and the next, Jazz's fingers were there, and then they were gone, slipped away as the frame that had been pressing Prowl to the wall disappeared as the mech jumped back and danced away, grinning and unrepentant. "Catch," he purred, arms held out in open challenge.

Prowl's powerful engine roared and he lunged, only half aware of his surroundings with his processor locked on a single goal: capture.

Jazz caught him by the shoulders, bracing against the momentum, holding Prowl there while they struggled. He made no attempt to escape, but he also refused to go down onto the ground that easily. He twisted, spinning them in a sudden half circle, and tried to reverse too quickly for Prowl to recover. It was a testament to the joors Jazz had put into combat training that Prowl hadn't at how easily he could control their movements.

Right up to the point when Prowl realized he was outmatched by skill and turned his full processor power, fuelled by the heavy charge in his systems, to pinning his mate. He shot a leg out to stop the back spin, calculated the shift in momentum and where it would stop and Jazz's center of gravity at that exact moment, all of it in a fraction of a nanoklik before they had even stopped moving, and right at that instant, shot a hand out to push Jazz at his weakest point. His opponent's stability wavered, he kicked his leg out and wrapped it around Jazz's ankle, and _pulled_, dragging his pede out from under him and sending him toppling onto his back with a loud _thud_ and a low, startled grunt.

Jazz twisted, hooking a leg up around Prowl's waist, getting ready to roll, but in doing so, left his legs apart, and Prowl knew exactly where to push on his shoulder to keep him pinned.

A triumphant grin spread across Prowl's face and lustful eagerness across his field. "You're not going anywhere," he purred, shifting to rub his spike along his mate's valve cover. "I know you want this."

"Say I do," Jazz purred back, the cover snapping away immediately, even as he bucked his hips in a half-attempt to dislodge his mate, squirming in the powerful hold. "What are you gonna do about it now that you've caught me? Or are you gonna let me go?"

"Never letting you go," Prowl rumbled hotly, the multitude of meanings he intended thick in his field, but it was all centered on his love for the mech he had pinned as he thrust into him, hot and eager with a deep moan. "Going to stretch you, fill you until we can't move, then want the same from you."

Jazz's fingers dug into Prowl's shoulders and he moaned sharply, helm falling back, struggles ceasing instantly. "_Frag_ yes," he gasped, his aching valve tightening in around his lover, hot and slick and oh so eager. "_Yes_, 'Tera, hard, please, _hard_."

With a growling rev Prowl did just that, bracing his frame to give his mate the hardest pounding he was capable of and running his advanced processors at full capacity on nonsense work to suck up as much of the building charge in his system as possible. He could hold out for two or even three of his mate's overloads this way, and he loved it, loved feeling Jazz writhe beneath him and hearing him scream his ecstasy as he shook and bucked in desperate overload, clawing at Prowl's shoulders and clamping his legs around his waist.

When Jazz's helm _slammed_ back into the floor and his entire frame arched up in an overload powerful enough to lift Prowl up just from the strength of the charge, he couldn't hold himself back. With a bellowing roar of his own, Prowl overloaded hard, flooding his mate with his charge and the fluid to carry it to every sensor in Jazz's valve.

He was still twitching, thrusting faintly, when they sank to the floor in a dazed bliss.

After a klik, Jazz gathered himself, lowered his legs and struggled up, supporting Prowl's weight with his own as he moved, purring against him, armor loose and venting. "Not done with you yet," he whispered against his audial, and nipped, then managed to get Prowl back up to his pedes and backed him into their berthroom. Prowl did help, but he was only partially coordinated despite his best efforts. Jazz shoved him back and forced him into a sit, grinning, before dropping to his knees and pushing his lover's thighs apart, burying his face in that parted junction, wet with both their fluids, and x-vented against the still-bared valve.

A low moan, full of eager want, came with Prowl spreading his legs further and rolling his hips to give Jazz even better access. "Never want you done with me."

"Never gonna be," Jazz promised, and swirled his glossa around the slick opening, teasing at the platelets that quivered from the touch, moaning softly at the taste.

He licked and pressed, humming deep into his mate's valve, while taking his own spike in hand and rubbing slowly, working both of them back up. Once he had Prowl gasping and trembling beneath him he pulled back and pressed one more heated kiss right over the gripping, quivering opening, hearing his lover's begging keen. He shivered, lifted himself, lined up, and _pushed_, piercing the slick valve in a single thrust.

It was a distinctly different angle, and not an easy one to get much depth or strength behind, but the way it made Prowl bow his back to roll his hips further into Jazz, opening his legs more, was well worth it for those first moments.

Prowl's willingness to endure the shallow thrusts was limited and it wasn't long before he grabbed his mate by the shoulders and pulled him forward and he shimmed sideways, bringing them both on the berth with a bit of cooperation from Jazz, and at the first full, deep thrust, he cried out, clutching Jazz to him.

"Fill me, spread me wide, give me everything you have!" Prowl keened, writhing shamelessly under his lover.

Jazz growled deep in his chassis, reaching back to grab Prowl's leg and yanked up, forcing his legs wide apart. He settled his weight, pulled out, and then struck _deep_, before setting a harsh, pounding rhythm into his love. He groaned and buried his face against Prowl's neck, free hand clutching at the padding of the berth, gripping it so hard his fingers shook from the tension. "Mine," he gasped, shuddering and straining. "Mine, _mine_ to have and fill and take."

"Always," Prowl moaned, giving himself fully to the experience without a single reservation.

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It had been twenty vorns since he and Jazz had escaped from Vortex, but the near-anniversary wasn't what had him so excited. The other Enforcers who saw him simply smiled and assumed he was looking forward to going home a bit more than usual and he let them believe it. He wasn't going to lie, but no one asked so he didn't tell. He gave his mate a quick location ping, just to make sure they'd see each other as soon as possible and made quick work of the drive to an apartment that had been home for almost 95% of their time as mates.

Jazz was lounging inside, stretched out on his back and holding a datapad up, reading whatever was on it, but as soon as he heard the door opening he tipped his head back and let his engines kick into a welcoming purr. "Hello, love," he greeted warmly.

"Hello, my love," Prowl purred in reply and came over to kiss Jazz upside down. "Feel like taking a drive? I have something I'd like to show you."

Jazz hummed happily and pulled Prowl back into the kiss for another long moment. "Sure," he said, sitting upright and quirking a smile at his lover. "Though don't think this gets you out of being pounced."

"I would hope not," Prowl grinned and drew Jazz into an embrace, allowing his non-aroused excitement to fully envelope his love. "But when come back. I really hope you like what I want to show you."

Jazz tilted his head curiously, teeking the joyful flavor in his mate's field. "I'm sure I will," he said, and held his arm out for Prowl to lead the way, following him out to the street where Prowl transformed and drove him across the city to a residential sector that Jazz had never been to. It was nice, too. Not where nobles lived, but definitely outside what he thought of even with both their incomes. The higher towers would have an amazing view of some part of Praxus no matter what direction you faced.

Prowl pulled over and transformed in front of a building that wasn't the tallest, but was definitely upscale. He held out his hand to Jazz with a smile and nodded to the doormech when the perfectly polished nearly unarmored femme bowed to them and opened the door.

Jazz glanced at her as they passed, then back to his mate. "Pantera, what...?" he asked as he followed into the decorated lift.

"You'll see," Prowl smiled mischievously in the privacy of the lift, relaxing in his excitement as they traveled upward. It wasn't headed to the top floors, but it was high enough to have a spectacular view of the downtown lights at night. "I don't want to ruin the surprise."

"Bet I could coax it out of you," Jazz purred, nuzzling him, field rippling with curiosity and anticipation, when the lift stopped and flashed the need for a code, which Prowl entered promptly. As soon as he had, the lift moved again, changing its direction.

"I'm sure you could, but you'll see in a moment," Prowl chuckled and tipped Jazz's face up for a kiss that his mate gladly returned.

The movement stopped and the lift opened on a different side than they had entered, behind Prowl, who turned and put his hand on the small of Jazz's back as they stepped out. A spacious entry room, very minimally furnished or decorated, greeted Jazz's bright optics, but his attention was drawn to what lay beyond. It seemed like the entry room opened into space with the vista of central Praxus, though distantly Jazz recognized that he was actually looking through into an empty room beyond with huge windows and no noticeable furniture.

"Pantera," he murmured, looking around before walking forward into the larger room, Prowl following quietly. "Wow, this is...wow," was all he could say for a moment as he looked out the view, then turned towards his lover with a half-grin. "You confiscate this place or something?"

A low chuckle greeted that and Prowl braced his love. "No, we've finally paid off all our debts. With my investments, we can afford it. If you like it, that is."

"_Like_ it?" Jazz repeated, mildly stunned as he looked around again, imagining this as _his_ to build as a home. "'Tera, this place is amazing! We can really afford this? And-oh, right there, there's a sculpture that would look _perfect_ there," he said, stepping away, and _really_ looked the entire, giant room over, instantly seeing arrangements, decorations, ways to section it into multiple rooms... He spun a few times, grinning hugely, then looked out the window before turning to his lover. "Yes, _yes_ I like it!" He paused, looked around. "Is there a berthroom?"

Prowl laughed, warm and delighted at being able to create such joy in his mate. "Upstairs," he pointed above and behind them to where a balcony and grand staircase suitable for making presentations on opened into the two story high main room. "Three rooms and a full washrack, and an oil pool large enough for three on one of the balconies. They can be berthroom, offices, library, entertainment, private space, whatever appeals to you."

Jazz purred, stepping close to Prowl and resting one hand lightly on his mate's chest, his gaze still jumping around, unable to stop himself from making plans. Finally he looked back into Prowl's optics. "Ours, really ours?"

"Since you like it, yes," Prowl nodded. "I made inquiries but not a contract yet. I wanted to make sure you didn't want a different view or something. I know it is solidly Praxian in aesthetics."

"I have spent my lifetime falling in love with all things Praxian," Jazz purred, doorwings lifted high, full of excitement. "How soon can we move in?"

"Within half a decaorn, if all goes well," Prowl nudged his lover towards the internal lift to go upstairs the easy way. "Two rooms have similar views to this," he waved towards the floor to ceiling vista. "The washrack and third room are interior."

"You do realize how long it's going to take us to break this place in," Jazz said, stepping forward as the lift stopped, looking out over the city for a moment before grinning at his lover.

"Yes," Prowl grinned back with a heady rumble. "And it will take you a long time to decorate it, tweak it, make it exactly what you want."

Jazz hummed in pure, honest anticipation of getting to do that, a task that settled a spark-deep need in him. "I can't wait," he said, turning back to Prowl and pressing against him, pulling him into a deep kiss. "Thank you," he murmured.

"You are welcome, my love," Prowl purred and kissed him again.


	28. Meeting the Younglings

Starcrossed 28: Meeting the Younglings  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I've seen you calmer prepping to raid gunrunners," Prowl commented with a mixture of amusement and concern as the public transport came in for a landing in Polyhex. "They don't know you're coming. You can entertain yourself during the day while I'm with them and they'll never know you backed out."

Radiance startled slightly when Prowl spoke, having been staring out the window at the city, completely lost in his thoughts. "I'm already all the way out here, might as well," he said, trying to sound casual. He stood and stretched as soon as they were stopped, not completely able to hide the nervous tilt to his doorwings. "And I've met them before."

"And they like you as well," Prowl smiled slightly, settling in line behind Radiance to leave the transport, leaving the dark mech no doubt as to how excited Prowl was to see his creations for the first time since their youngling upgrades. "They're always in a good mood, too. The zoo is a popular way to spend the orn."

"How would they know they like me when they haven't seen me since they were less than a vorn?" Radiance asked as soon as they had stepped out. "And it was less than a joor, even."

"They remembered you well enough to ask to see you, repeatedly," Prowl shrugged his doorwings as they worked their way to the street, their heavy and distinctively marked Enforcer frames making way for them more than either demanded movement. "I don't talk about you _that_ often."

"I'm flattered," Radiance teased before transforming and revving his engines playfully. Prowl chuckled and joined him on the road, taking the lead in the drive he was familiar with. As it always was since Prowl had earned his Enforcer markings, traffic reacted to make their movements easy. They didn't look like local Enforcers, but the markings were almost universally similar but for city emblams and mecha reacted accordingly. It was still new enough to still be moderately novel for Prowl, but Radiance didn't pay it any mind.

He followed Prowl through the city to the nobles' quarter, then off the road to the servants' entrance located around the back, avoiding the roads that the nobles and their family would use completely, transformed, and lingered several steps back. Prowl headed right to the visible entrance, which opened almost immediately, and two streaks, one red and one yellow, ran out, heading straight for his open arms.

It was warming, and adorable, and triggered more of Radiance's creator coding along with a stronger desire to claim Prowl as a mate. Prowl's interactions as he held and nuzzled the pair, then leaned back to check their new frames, were just as sweet as watching him when they were so much younger.

Eventually, Sideswipe pointed to the dark Praxian hovering in the distance and grinned.

Radiance grinned back. "So you remember me," he said.

Sideswipe nodded and squirmed out of Prowl's arms, running over, holding out his arms and spinning, showing off the upgrades. "Do you like it?"

Radiance knelt down to be closer to the sparkling's height. "I do, but it's going to make it hard for you to be sneaky with bright colors like that," he said seriously. "You'll stand out too much in the dark."

"I don't mind," Sideswipe said, cocking his head up at the visored mech, then looked at Prowl and pointed at Radiance. "Is he your mate yet?"

Radiance almost choked.

"Not yet," Prowl chuckled and stood to walk over, Sunstreaker watching carefully from his sire's side. "It is unsuited to have a third before you've been with your mate at least a century."

"Then I can't wait for a century to be over," Sideswipe announced cheerfully, and then in a flip that reminded Radiance painfully of Jazz, turned serious again. "How is Saxo?" he asked, very politely, sounding like it was a question asked out of habit rather than actual interest.

"He's doing well," Prowl responded in much the same way, a rote answer for a rote question. "Who wants to go to the zoo today?"

"Yes!" Sideswipe said, jumping, while Sunstreaker brightened. "The Lords' creations went last metacycle and they won't stop talking about it!" He looked at Radiance. "You're coming, right? Can I ride with you?"

"'Course," Radiance grinned, before looking at Prowl. "If it's all right with Pantera."

"Of course," Prowl chuckled and stepped away from Sunstreaker to transform, opening his door for Sunstreaker to climb in.

Radiance followed suit, letting Sideswipe bound in, and kicked his engines on with a bit more rev than really necessary, and felt the answering flare of excitement from the youngling.

"How fast can you go?" Sideswipe asked.

"Very fast," Radiance answered.

"You should beat creator there," came the conspiratorial whisper.

"We will both be obeying the posted limits," Radiance said. "Which you should always do, for your own safety and for those around you." He felt the droop. "Hey, I'll tell you a secret, though."

Sideswipe perked. "Okay!"

"Your creator loves to race, and sometimes he's even faster than me."

Sideswipe grinned. "That's awesome."

Radiance smiled through his field, and once his passenger had settled down, sent a comm over to Prowl. ::Sunstreaker's still pretty shy, huh? I see that hasn't changed much.::

::No, they are still very similar to the vorn-olds you knew,:: Prowl's warm affection was clear over the comm as they headed out. ::Sideswipe is the social one.::

Radiance chuckled, keeping track of the red youngling's excited chatter at the same time. ::Yes, I see that too.:: He paused for a moment, hesitating, then, ::'Saxo?':: Prowl didn't talk about his visits or the younglings very often, and never when Jazz was around, and the very proper designation use had caught Radiance off guard.

::They stopped referring to him as a creator at five vorns. I'm half surprised it took that long,:: Prowl admitted. ::I expect they'll stop asking or mentioning him completely before you can court us.::

::That's... too bad, but unsurprising,:: Radiance sighed. His engines rumbled in a growl that he quickly throttled back before Sideswipe could notice. ::If I could get my hands on Sideswipe's spark sire-:: he began, then cut himself off, unsure if that was a welcome topic of conversation.

::Get in line, not that there will be anything left when Saxo's through with him,:: Prowl said grimly. ::Mech's a monster.::

::So I've noticed,:: Radiance said, and debated whether to push for more information for a few moments, before deciding now was not the time. Vorns of careful questions had gotten him nowhere closer to that answer, he could wait vorns more until they were ready to tell him, centuries if he had to. He edged up closer to Prowl in their lane, enough for the other Enforcer to feel his field, and all the warm affection he felt for them. Prowl replied with a mixture of affection, warmth and thanks.

"That is too close," Sideswipe said.

Radiance chuckled and eased back. "If I were a civilian. I've been trained how to drive very well. But you're right, even I should still drive safely whenever possible."

Sideswipe nodded his satisfaction, and Radiance drove in silence the rest of the way, listening to the youngling talk nonstop about everything he could think of. It was clear to Radiance that both Prowl and Sideswipe knew the way to the zoo well, and it wasn't really a surprise. With forty-five visits, the selection of destinations that were good for such young mecha was limited.

They pulled up to the sidewalk and allowed the new younglings out, then transformed and Radiance got to watch Sideswipe all but assault Prowl for attention before the adult expertly distracted him with the promise of creatures once they paid the fee to enter.

"You're very good at that," Radiance purred, standing close enough that he thought only Prowl could hear him. "I hope I'll get a chance to watch you raise another sparkling, some orn."

::Quite possibly _ours_,:: Prowl smiled back, his own purr deep and field playful and serious.

::If everything goes my way, yes,:: Radiance answered with a grin, and then was startled by the voice that came from near his knees.

"You're going to have another sparkling?" Sunstreaker looked up, uncertain and a little hurt.

"Not anytime soon," Prowl said firmly. "Saxo has to be ready to raise a sparkling before we try again."

"Saxo hates sparklings," Sunstreaker muttered, mood darkening just at the mention of his carrier. Radiance gave Prowl a startled look.

"I know," Prowl said as he knelt to hug the yellow youngling, not hiding one bit of how sad and hurt the truth left him. "But mecha can change, and I hope, eventually, I can change that about him too. Now enough talk of bad things," he forced himself to brighten. "Let's get in line so we can see the exhibits, and you can even sketch some this time, since Radiance can entertain your brother."

Sunstreaker brightened considerably at the prospect and the pair behaved, unnaturally well in Radiance's opinion, in line with Prowl.

::It comes with having a strong and caring disciplinarian always on hand to monitor them,:: Prowl answered the look as they paid admission and entered what amounted to another world in the form of force field cages that separated the creatures dangerous to each other but otherwise allowed the animals to roam freely in large expanses. Once logged into the zoo's datanet, their HUDs brought up names and data on each item, animal or plant, mecha, bio-mecha, transtech or organic, that they focused on.

They had barely half a klik to stand and look around, Radiance automatically looking around for the layout of the new location and tracking routes and obstacles, before Sideswipe was tugging at his hand.

"This way!" the red youngling said, pulling ineffectually at the adult frame. "Come _on!_ The new things are this way! Steeler said they're really cool!"

"Lord Steeler," Prowl corrected his creation.

"Right right yeah, but _this_ way!"

Radiance smiled and gave in to the pulling, following along after Sideswipe, who led the rest of them through crowds that only parted because of the Enforcer markings that the adults wore. Radiance caught more than a few dark looks shot their way from the fringes, something he wasn't used to. In Praxus, Enforcers were respected, but here, it seemed, that was not the case.

"There!" Sideswipe said, drawing his attention back, pointing towards an exhibit that had a large gathering around it. The exhibit pulled up as a Chaar spider, a dangerous creature capable of killing their kind, listed as extremely hazardous. Sideswipe squirmed his way through the onlooking crowd, getting up right next to the force field, looking into the cavernous enclosure.

Radiance found himself very grateful for the force field when he saw the bulk of the creature moving near the dark rock walls, designed to resemble the habitat it had been captured from.

"What does it eat?" Sideswipe asked.

Radiance skimmed over the data he had pulled up so the youngling wouldn't have to. "Energy leeches are their primary source of fuel," he answered. "Though it is capable of consuming most living things." He felt Prowl come up next to him, having worked his way through the surrounding mecha at a more polite speed.

Sunstreaker went to stand next to his brother, then just slightly in front of him in a protective stance. "Which means it will eat _us_ too."

"Yes, but it can't get through the field," Radiance tried to reassure the yellow youngling, rapping at the barrier in demonstration.

Sunstreaker frowned at him. "Just because it never has, doesn't mean it never will."

Radiance tilted his head. "By that logic, everything in this zoo could escape all at once, but the chances of that happening are almost nothing."

"A probability of 0.00000001641% given the publicly available information," Prowl supplied smoothly. "Lower, given that backup and security systems are required to have at least one level not in the public database."

"How can you know that?" someone next to them asked with an unpleasant sub-harmonic.

"Which part, Sidecross?" Prowl asked blandly, looking at the indistinct mid-sized grounder and pulling up all available data on him.

The mech jerked as if burned. "How..."

"Public information," Prowl regarded him calmly. "An ID ping links to a designation and other basic information that anyone can access. Which part of my calculation do you question?"

Radiance shifted to keep his doorwings trained on the younglings while he faced the mech, disturbed by a teek of his unfriendly field and the sudden amount of attention they had from all around. While to most Prowl wouldn't come across as anything but stiffly formal, Radiance knew him well enough to recognize the tension and activation of stage one combat protocols.

Everything was broken by a youngling's growl as small yellow and red frames came to their creator's side and glared up at the much larger mech. They got that far before Prowl firmly shifted them back and took a partial step forward, displaying for all that these were his creations and he was not going to let them be damaged in a potential confrontation. He also blatantly marked himself as the dominant protector of the pair despite Radiance being better in a brawl.

"It's all right," Radiance said as soothingly as he could, and simultaneously ran one hand along the top edge of Prowl's doorwing and reached down to rub the back of Sunstreaker's neck. "They're just talking, that's all. It's easy to forget that not everyone has the same interests. And I'm _sure_ this nice mech is just curious about standard security backup protocols."

The warning was noted by several in the crowd, and Prowl's tension relaxed slightly. Sunstreaker's engine continued to growl softly, but the younglings complied with their creator's wish to stay back. Radiance had no doubt, even without a word between them, that Prowl expected him to take the younglings to safety should this turn ugly.

"How do you know about hidden security being required?" Sidecross asked almost lamely.

Prowl let him have the out gracefully. "Enforcer," he tapped the Praxian insignia on his chest plate. "It is my duty to know the laws. While the number of security features required to be kept from public access records vary by jurisdiction, the single level is an Imperial law, and thus applies to all collections with potentially dangerous creatures. Praxus requires four. I did not determine what Polyhex requires for my calculation and thus used the Imperial minimum."

"Right, well, yeah, that makes sense," the mech said, looking extremely uncomfortable with all the attention all of a sudden.

"I think so too," Radiance said smoothly, flashing a grin at him. "And while I know I find obscure legal protocols _fascinating_, we did have to pay to get in here, and I'd hate to waste that fee. If you'd like, we could meet up for drinks later, to discuss publicly accessible protocol further?"

"Or not," Sunstreaker muttered quietly.

"I ... okay, whatever," Sidecross muttered and tried to quietly slip from the scene.

Prowl flared a warmth to Radiance before he turned to kneel in front of his creations. "While I appreciate that you're so eager to help defend me, I don't want either of you in danger."

"He felt mean," Sideswipe said, frowning and worried. "He shouldn't be mean to you when you didn't do anything."

Radiance huffed to himself in silent agreement, carefully watching the mecha around them as Prowl soothed his creations. He was seeing surprise, confusion, and still some lingering, open hostility, but nothing that posed a threat, until a working frame shifted forward. Radiance flared his wings high in warning and the mech growled, then spat on the ground next to Prowl.

"Enforcers are all self-righteous, noble-serving whores," he rumbled.

Before Prowl could react, Radiance had sidestepped around him and was grabbing the mech by the collar and hauling him away from his lover and the younglings, pinging the zoo security staff. "I think you've had too much high grade," he said cheerfully. "Maybe best if you go settle down a bit."

"Going to put me in jail for it?" the mech hissed.

"We're Praxian Enforcers," Prowl pointed out in that calm, cool way that he reflexively fell into when dealing with riled mecha as he stood. He kept his creations close to him, his doorwings flared wide to keep track of everyone, but otherwise he was calm and centered and presented a completely professional air that Radiance approved of deeply. "This is not our jurisdiction, nor is what you did anything to even be reported. Anger is not a crime."

Radiance felt the startled surprise from all around them as security arrived.

"He just needs a quiet place to sit for a while," he said, in response to the questioning looks. "Everyone's a bit excitable this orn, it seems like."

"But he just said..." the mech said, glancing at Prowl.

"That he wouldn't report you, which is not what I'm doing," Radiance said. "I'm here to enjoy an orn as a civilian, and verbal harassment is not something I feel like putting up with."

"'S against policy to harass other guests.," the security mech said, gesturing with his head. "Got a place you can sit for a while if you don't want to leave. Last warning, though."

"Yeah all right," the mech muttered, and gave Prowl another dirty look before he was escorted away.

Radiance watched for a moment, then shook his head and let his doorwings relax back down as he turned towards Prowl. ::Primus, that was almost a mess.::

::Yes, they've been getting worse every vorn,:: Prowl agreed sadly. "Why don't we check out the flutterbots?"

"Boring," Sideswipe declared, while Sunstreaker perked at the idea.

"How about we all go see the flutterbots, and then when you get too bored, we'll go look at whatever else you want while Sunstreaker draws them?" Radiance suggested, then smiled warmly at the yellow brother. "If you do want to draw them, that is."

"He does, even if he won't admit it," Sideswipe teased his brother as he grabbed the yellow youngling's hand and tugged him towards the Flutterbot Pavilion dome with its warm air and winding paths on two levels with thick growths of crystal and mecha plants.

"Thank you," Prowl said softly as they walked behind the younglings.

Radiance dared to reach out and run his fingers up along Prowl's arm. "You're welcome, though it's no trouble," he said. "Sideswipe is a joy. They both are, but I think he actually likes me," he chuckled.

"They both do," Prowl smiled at him briefly before focusing on the youngling. A quiet whistle made them stop and come back, keeping up their rate of movement without getting more than a couple paces ahead of Prowl. "Sideswipe is just much quicker to show it. Sometimes I think Sunstreaker has a more difficult time governing his emotions."

Radiance regarded the younglings. "He is very reactive," he agreed. "I imagine it will become easier as he grows. Certainly so if his carrier is any indication," he added with a fond smile at Prowl.

"I hope so," Prowl admitted to his worries. "He has the processors to be exceptional, if he can learn self control. I just worry that my influence isn't enough."

"Enough to counter... his spark sire?" Radiance asked, carefully. This was another area the pair was restrictive about when it came to information. "Or Saxo's influence?"

"Both, honestly, but mostly the first," Prowl's tone softened considerably at the thought of his mate. "Saxo isn't exactly what you call calm, and..." a small shudder passed down Prowl's frame, drawing both younglings to him for soft reassurances. ::And the trauma of having Saxo turn on them. I'm just a worried creator who can't have much influence on his creation.::

Radiance offered as much support as he could through his field. ::I'm sorry,:: he said softly as he watched Prowl interacting with his creations, his own spark throbbing almost painfully with just how much he wished he could fix this for all three of them, and the knowledge that he couldn't. ::I know how much they mean to you.::

::Thank you,:: Prowl brushed affection back and once the twins were settled and running again he stood and brushed his doorwing against his lover's. "If they don't want a place where they are now, maybe they'll return when they're mechlings." His tone was distinctly wistful, the sound of a mech that knew just how unlikely things were go to his way, but still willing to hope that he'd beat the odds. "I'm glad I can visit as often as I do and they still like me."

"What's not to like? They adore you," Radiance said, and grinned, lowering his voice into a purr. "They aren't alone, of course."

Prowl's doorwings shivered faintly as his interface systems heated. ::Keep that up and you aren't going to get any rest tonight.:: He absently scanned a credit stick for two flutterbot fuel cups and picked up the faint pink, sickly sweet smelling liquid. "Who wants to feed them?"

"Me!" the twins said in unison, even Sideswipe looking excited about what he had previously deemed a boring venture.

Radiance chuckled and shimmered his field playfully along Prowl's as they sat down to watch the younglings dash off to feed the flutterbots. ::You were expecting to rest tonight?:: he teased.

::I was not going to presume,:: Prowl chuckled and leaned into him, his field playful and hungry. ::Not on our first night alone together.::

Radiance hummed with pleasant surprise that Prowl had taken his flirting seriously, something he'd been privately hoping for. ::Neither was I,:: he admitted softly. ::I will admit...I wasn't sure you'd be open to the idea.::

While Prowl's sensors and optics were on his creations, he was warm and content to be enveloped in Radiance's field and offered the same. ::I like you. I will never pretend that there is a question between you and Saxo if I had to choose, but I do like you, and I do want a triad when he's ready. Saxo and I talked this over before I invited you and again before we left. He's not thrilled about it, but I believe him when he says he's okay with it in these circumstances. It would be different in Praxus, or if it happened often, but we all know it won't.::

Radiance nodded, and quietly longed for when the pair would be open to being officially courted, and after that... a successful courting, if he pulled it off, if they were still interested, if _he_ was still interested, and he would be able to join in their spark bond.

But that was centuries in the future, and only one outcome of many. Radiance tucked those thoughts away and settled his hand on the back of Prowl's neck, rubbing the cabling there. ::All teasing aside... I just think you might need some comfort after seeing them.::

::I do tend to mope these nights,:: Prowl admitted, soft sounds escaping him at the comforting, relaxing and lightly pleasurable touch. ::I admit, it will be nice just to be held by someone I care about, who cares for me, and likes them. As much as I love Saxo, it hurts to leave them every time.::

::And you haven't had anyone to miss them with you for a long time,:: Radiance murmured. ::I think this will be good for you.::

::Yes,:: Prowl agreed, watching as Sunstreaker was more than content to be still and watch as the brilliantly colored, reflective and lighted little mecha-animals fluttered around him and settled for the special energon in his cup. Sideswipe, predictably, was starting to fidget. ::He'll be most grateful if you go rescue him from his brother's contemplative mood.::

Radiance chuckled, leaned over to steal a quick, almost daring kiss, and stood. "Hey Sideswipe," he called, catching the red youngling's attention. "The schedule says they're feeding the Chaar spider soon, wanna go watch with me?"

"Yeah!" Sideswipe leapt to his pedes, grinning madly, and ran over to Radiance, though neither adult missed the attempt at a subtle check with Prowl that it was really okay.

"Go on," Prowl smiled. "I trust him to take good care of you."

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

After they had dropped Sideswipe and Sunstreaker off at the estate, since they weren't allowed to spend the night away from the premises, Radiance and Prowl headed to the nearby hotel that Prowl stayed at for his visits. The drive over was quiet, with few words exchanged between them, neither of them in much mood to talk.

Watching Prowl hug his creations before leaving, even with the repeated promises that they would be back in the morning, had been harder than Radiance had expected. His lover cared for his creations a great deal, and it was visibly difficult for him to leave them, even for one night. Radiance didn't want to imagine him saying goodbye for the vorn, even if he knew he was going to witness that in less than two orns.

They got up to their room, modest, comfortable, generically decorated in an attempt to feel welcoming and homey, and Radiance was almost surprised to find just one berth. Despite their earlier flirting, he hadn't been sure if Prowl would actually want company. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped behind him, running his hands down Prowl's backstrut, calling up the lowest setting of the mag systems, just enough to help him massage the plating.

Prowl groaned in welcome and pressed into the touch, his field loosening slightly and licking along Radiance's in a mixture of thanks and apology.

Radiance pressed his mouth to the side of Prowl's neck, kissing softly. "Why sorry?" he murmured, carefully working his hands down.

"We spent half the orn working each other up, and I'm not sure I have it in me to be much of a lover tonight," Prowl murmured with a shiver. His frame wanted to respond, but his spark and processors were too heavy to find interest in that kind of pleasure. Reflex garnered enough that he could fake it, that he could be slick or hard as desired, but he respected what he was trying to build with Radiance too much for that lie.

Radiance nodded in acceptance and understanding, and said as much with his field, unconcerned by the choice and with no judgment or ill feeling towards Prowl. He kept massaging, focusing on trying to relieve the massive amount of tension he could feel in the frame rather than trying to arouse. "May I still hold you?" he asked, voice quiet.

"I'd like that," Prowl let his optics flicker off and leaned slightly into Radiance's presence, willing to submit, to be guided, to simply not have to be the strong one for a few joors. "It's ... nice ... to have you here."

Radiance hummed and took Prowl's weight back onto himself, working his thumbs into the small dips between joints, pressing them on taut cabling. "Nice not to have to be the one holding everything together," he guessed carefully. "Saxo relies heavily on you. And in this one thing, you can't turn to him."

"No, I can't," Prowl shuddered. How long had it been since he'd had another to lean on? Not since his carrier deactivated. It seemed like lifetimes ago. Very long lifetimes ago. To have that again ... a low, soft moan of want escaped him, motivating him to find the berth and snuggle against Radiance in much the way he had with his carrier when duties were too much for him. His field fluctuated wildly as his processor began to lay down connections of Radiance being _support_.

Radiance's field, in turn, stayed calm, soothing, accepting, arms wrapped around his lover, stroking the back of his helm and running fingers along his spine. "Have you ever allowed yourself to grieve for them?" he asked after a long silence.

Something twitched in Prowl's field. Something between confusion, pain and self-hate that made no sense at all.

"Allowed myself...?" Prowl pressed close as pain, very old pain, lanced up from his spark and he tried to bury it with moderate success. "I took the three orns that is recommended for my type."

Radiance's gaze flickered in surprise and sudden worry. "Your 'type'...?" he echoed, and pushed himself up, meeting Prowl's optics and pressing palm to cheek. "Pantera...you gave away _your creation_, you don't recover from that in three orns!"

"It should. It worked for the other three," Prowl murmured, refusing to meet Radiance's visor as it sank in just how much he'd given away by speaking to someone other than Jazz about his past like this. "It mostly worked for my creators, my first mate. I shouldn't have even wanted to visit the first time. I'm coded to care for my charges and let them go when it's time."

Radiance didn't answer for a long, awful moment, the hand shifting up to stroke Prowl's helm as he regarded his lover. "Three," he murmured, almost to himself, then, "That almost sounds like..." He trailed off, catching a glimpsing flash through Prowl's field, a plea not to push down that road. "Something was different this time," he said, switching tracks. "It made you want to visit, it means you need to take more than three orns to grieve."

"I know their designations. I met them," Prowl sighed, pressing into the contact but refusing to look at his lover. "I thought ... I thought for most of two vorns that I'd raise them. I knew it was going to be difficult. Saxo's so young, and already traumatized, but he loved them, or he thought he did, before they emerged. I really thought that I'd finally get to raise my creation. I know better, and I still do this to myself every vorn."

"They love your visits, I could tell that much in a sparkbeat," Radiance said quietly, trying not to think about what it meant that Prowl hadn't known the designations of three creations. "You're still bringing them joy by being part of their lives. And there is no shame, no sin, in visiting them, loving them. But you're _in pain_ and you're not letting yourself feel it."

Prowl was still for a long, thoughtful time as he worked his way through that.

"I'm not sure how to," he finally decided, his voice low and uncertain. "I had work to do, always, and Saxo to keep me sane enough to function. I wasn't created to grieve for long."

"No matter what your processors was created for, sparks still need to grieve," Radiance said, moving his hand down to Prowl's chest for a brief moment. "And I think it's affecting your efficiency. I learned more about what you are in one sentence than I have in a half century, and..." He hesitated, his own flicker of grief coming through. "I don't think that was intentional."

"What did you learn?" Prowl tried not to tense, but he knew he did. He knew he'd slipped but more than once already, but it felt so impossibly _good_ to not be the strong one. It had been so long since he'd had someone to lean on, someone to support him.

"There are only two classes for which it is accepted and expected that they give their creations away at the whim of others," Radiance said, slowly, gently, rubbing his thumb along Prowl's forehelm. "Slaves and servants. You're not a slave, you wouldn't be able to function in society like you do. And even among servants, not every type is, is bred," he said, hesitating for a moment on the glyph that was considered offensive when used in reference to a commoner. "For a long time I thought you were sparked, or maybe even a pre-prog, but you aren't. You're kindled, and still very specifically coded and designed." His voice dipped low. "You were made for one purpose, coded and designed, a living work of art...you could rule this planet if you wanted it, but you don't have that kind of ambition. You exist to serve on such a level that it actually brings you pleasure. You have slave coding, or a slave was your spark sire." He met Prowl's optics. "How am I doing?"

Prowl could only tremble as genuine terror bubbled up. He knew he'd said more than he meant, but he never thought he'd said _that_ much. This mech could trace him knowing what he did. Could uncover his real designation, and thus Jazz's. They'd have to run again, take the twins and risk Jazz's reactions to them. His frame was nearly paralyzed as all his resources were directed to working out how to get the four of them out of this alive.

Radiance's optics spiraled wide when he realized his words had just engaged combat protocols. "Whoa, whoa, _hey!_" he said quickly, immediately just as tense as Prowl was. "No, shh, that's all I can figure out, and I won't go looking for more, I swear to you. Not until you're ready to tell me, and even if that never happens. Please, please, shh, calm," he soothed, pushing honesty and affection into his field, touching their helms together. "I _swear_ to you, Pantera, I want to help you."

"Delete it." Prowl managed to say, his vents wide and fans whirling as he struggled against protocols carefully crafted to preserve his Lord's existence while on the run from an oligarch and minor noble House. Another part of him flared warnings that his emotions were dangerous if they allowed such an action, but Prowl wanted Radiance, wanted a triad so badly. The mech had earned his trust, earned Jazz's trust. For the first time in his long existence Prowl fought his coding solely for himself and his desires. "Delete that knowledge. Before we triad, we intend to show you everything."

Radiance's vents stalled out before he shook himself and scrambled to sort through the conversation, separating out what he knew had to go and what he _needed_ to keep. He could teek, and feel through their frames, that Prowl was already calming just at the promise given through their fields. In mere nanokliks Radiance pressed fingers to Prowl's dataport, his own cable already in hand, almost frantic in his need to remember what Prowl needed from him. "Please, I can't delete everything, I have to remember some of it, just let me know if this is all right, and you can change anything you want to."

Prowl's port spiraled open, the tension drained from him at the acceptance. Though it was the first time they'd hardlined, it went smoothly, Radiance intentionally lowering his firewalls more quickly than he normally would and Prowl a steady, calm but powerful presence on the other side. The moment he was able Prowl swept in, scanned the files and pronounced it good with a grateful brush of his field and mind. Even in this moment where things could have gone so horribly wrong, Prowl's natural curiosity showed. He didn't poke at what he wasn't given, but as he watched their short conversation unfold he was utterly fascinated by the way Radiance could take such tiny bits of information and extrapolate so far beyond them.

With a gentle kiss, Prowl withdrew from Radiance's processors and unhooked them so Radiance could go into the hard reboot required to properly set the edits.

Radiance's visor went dark, the frame sagged with the sound of systems forced into a sudden shutdown, and for almost a dozen nanokliks everything was still and absolutely silent before the clicks and whirrs of mechanics broke the moment.

Joints locked, the visor switched on, and Radiance had a moment of startled, unpleasant disorientation before the markers he'd left for himself linked back in, helping create a welcome sense of continuity. He lifted his head and looked down at Prowl. "I'm..." he said, then frowned and cocked his head. He'd learned something, something too close to the truth, or maybe even the truth itself, and chosen to delete it. "I distressed you," he murmured, and touched their helms together. "I'm sorry. I know I didn't mean to."

"I know as well," Prowl kissed him gently. "I said too much, and you did what you do best and worked out _far_ too much from a small slip. It was nothing we do not intend to tell you before we triad, but not yet." He let out a soft x-vent. "It's too dangerous now."

Radiance nodded and settled back down with his arms wrapped tightly around his lover, carefully reviewing the pieces he'd kept, not in an attempt to discover what he'd deleted, but to realize why those had been left.

Strongest of all the segments that remained were his own emotions, deep concern for Prowl, a clawing need to support him and help him. As he carefully filtered through that in the background, something in Prowl's last words suddenly caught up to him. "You...think there is a chance we will triad," he said, and tried not to feel too embarrassingly giddy about that.

Prowl slid his arms around Radiance in an easy embrace. "I want to, Saxo likes you well enough to let you in, you seem to want to," he smiled gently and relaxed, content in the embrace and this gift of not having to be the strong one for a little while. "It's just too early. I really do need the time to be utterly sure Saxo's settled and isn't just humoring me by agreeing to see you. After all I've done to be with him, I won't rush this and risk pushing him away or make him feel like he's not enough." Prowl paused. "He's not Praxian, though I'm fairly sure you already knew that. The cosmetic work was to make moving here easier."

"I did know. I'm just thrilled you don't think I'll botch the courting," Radiance admitted with a soft laugh. "My last one did not end successfully."

"I should be sorry to hear that, but since it means you're single, I find it difficult to be." Prowl snuggled his Praxian-shaped pillow. "I'm not going to hold your talent at connecting things against you. Not after what you just did for me."

Radiance nuzzled him. "Since I suspect you might not still be here if I hadn't..." He pressed a soft, easy kiss against Prowl's mouth. "I'm not giving you up so easily. Not when you need me, not when I can help you." Another kiss, tender, soothing. "I know you haven't grieved properly, I know you're not even sure how. I want you to try."

Prowl returned the kisses, then nuzzled against Radiance's neck as he processed and then reprocessed the request, the risks, the consequences and potential benefits. The old losses didn't bother him. They were triggered so rarely. But if he could no longer be off balance after visiting the twins... "How do I try to grieve?"

"You already are, dear one," Radiance murmured. "In your spark. It's deep, but there's a wound there. Something you need to feel for more than three orns. Let's start simple," he said, arms tight around his lover. "Remember the first time you saw them and held them."

Prowl hummed, not entirely sure of the point of it, but willing to go along. He opened the file that was the twins' separation. It wasn't any higher resolution than a normal memory, but it contained everything he saw and felt in those terrifying, exciting, messy and stressful joors in the small hotel room in Iacon. The hardline, guiding Jazz through the motions that were familiar to him but not the first time carrier or the two very excitable sparklings that wanted _out_. It scrolled by, the choices he made, guiding all three of them, forcing Sunstreaker to still while Sideswipe emerged. The moment when they accepted their fuel and Prowl knew that Jazz would be all right.

As much as he loved the twins, it was nothing compared to the love he felt for his mate and his processors willing remained on that tangent. It was so much more real to him than the small lives he'd help bring into the world.

Radiance waited quietly, watching Prowl's expression, then lifted his hand and tapped against his helm. "Stop thinking about Saxo," he said. "I know how you teek when you're doing that. Just Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, the first time they recharged against you, playing with them, watching them grow armor...watching them almost be killed by their creator."

Prowl huffed but refocused. They were good memories, warm memories, but only one was at any higher resolution than orn to orn existence.

The evening he realized that Sunstreaker had inherited much of his processor structure and power. It brought a soft purr to his engine and smile to his face. Every other moment like that was similarly highlighted, whether it was in higher resolution or not, and he felt _pride_ in traveling down that line of memories. He really was Sunstreaker's creator, and he had no doubt of it.

Those memories ended, and he reluctantly reviewed that moment of pure terror when his fledgling creator protocols, never meant to be possessive but learning to, were faced with his mate advanced on his creations. By rights, by everything in the culture that had created him, Prowl should have stood back and quietly cleaned up the mess. It was Lord Jazz's _right_ to destroy the half-breeds.

Yet Prowl didn't even think. There was no hesitation. He launched himself at his mate, his _Lord_, and slammed him into the far wall. He fought the furious mech to a standstill, hacked him, hurt him.

A sound of uncomprehending fear-grief-disbelief in his actions was absorbed by Radiance's neck cables while Prowl's plating rattled against him. Combat grade claws, installed by Mucit but now worn publicly as an Enforcer, scraped against armor designed to take abuse, and Radiance didn't even flinch.

"You love them," Radiance murmured. "You should have had a life with them, caring for them, watching them become who they will be. They should have known love, never fear, never hate. Tell me, did you have any say in their youngling upgrades?"

"No," Prowl trembled, his voice unsteady and his field still reeking of those terrifying movements as he worked to pack it all away again. "Didn't even know if they had them until I contacted Amberwave for this visit."

"No, don't push that fear away," Radiance said. "You need to feel that. If you didn't even know they had their upgrades, what else don't you know? What else are you missing? What else could happen to them, with you so far away?"

"Anything," Prowl admitted, fighting his basic reflex to package disruptive reactions away. "Anything could happen. _Anything_."

"And you will have to live with that," Radiance kept their helms together. "Accept that fact, don't ignore it. Losing a creation, having them _torn_ from you, sending them away of your own free will...that should _hurt_. It _does_ hurt, I can see it in every line of your frame when you say goodbye to them, even for just one night."

Prowl was still, pitting that statement against experience, coding and training. He wanted to say that it shouldn't hurt _him_. That normal to Radiance didn't mean it was normal for a seneschal. He didn't dare, though, because that would be giving Radiance too much and begin the ugly process of memory editing again.

"Pantera..." Radiance murmured, frowning at the lack of everything he'd been feeling in Prowl's field not even a groon ago. He sighed and pressed against him. "Guess this isn't the kind of thing you can force yourself to do, or you're too good at ignoring it. I'm worried about you. I'm staying the night when we get back to Praxus, even if Saxo isn't there."

"I've ignored it my entire existence," Prowl sighed, his field wrapping around Radiance with thanks and reassurance. "Grieving for a few orns and moving on is normal to me. It's simply how I've always done it. I know you mean well. It's not going to be so simple to implement. It might help Saxo a lot though. His emotional protocols are far more normal."

"Saxo already has someone to support him when he needs it," Radiance said with a fond smile. He trace Prowl's helm, slow and thoughtful. "I think... you've been through as much as he has, haven't you. I picked it up on him right away, but you..." He hummed. "I mean it when I say I want to be here for you."

"Thank you," Prowl leaned into the touch, his optics slowly powering down and his field warm, even a bit giddy. "Haven't had anyone to lean on since my carrier deactivated himself."

Radiance's field flickered in startled surprise at how easily Prowl could remember something like that. "Deactivated himself," he said softly. "I...think I shouldn't ask. I don't want to draw anything you don't want me to." He sighed. "Feels too good to hold you."

"It's nothing special," Prowl murmured, already half in recharge and very happy to be held rather than be the one holding. Nothing in his field or frame betrayed that he was speaking of one of the most painful events in his memory. "His carrier went insane while he watched. When he realized he was too, he drove a vibro blade through his spark rather than deteriorate to the point of uselessness. Same choice I'll make if it starts to happen. I have to be useful. Need to be functional."

Radiance nuzzled him, stroking and petting. "Saxo and I will make sure of that," he promised. "We'll make sure you're around for a long time."

"I want to be," Prowl whispered before slipping into a peaceful recharge.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Radiance began to boot with the distinct pleasure of a warm, affectionate frame against his back and light hands questioning if he was interested in more direct pleasure. He hummed and pressed back with his hips, covering the wandering fingers with his own, enjoying the last of a slow boot with another field twined with his own. He'd gotten so used to recharging alone, it was still a pleasant surprise to rouse to this.

"You started up in a good mood," he said, feeling the contented rumbling of the engines behind him.

"Reflex," Prowl chuckled, low and soft, while leaving no doubt he could have ignored it if he wished to. "You know Saxo's appetite for pleasure." He kissed the back of Radiance's neck.

"Oh, that I do," Radiance said, grinning. He reached back, seeking out Prowl's waist and hip for light, teasing touches. "Though I was rather hoping I was the inspiration."

"You are for not ignoring it," Prowl purred, his field teasing and playful along with his hands as he pressed into the touch. "Tell me what turns you on. What thought of me do you hold when you jack off?"

Radiance shivered and gasped softly, used to hearing Prowl's more erotic questions directed at Jazz, not him, and it made his engines run just a little hotter. "Your posture," he murmured, pointless to deny the many, many nights spent alone spilling into his own fingers with thoughts of Prowl and Jazz in his processors. "Watching your carriage go from that steady, commanding presence you have, to being completely sprawled out and strutless in ecstasy."

Prowl's engines revved and his fingers slipped into Radiance's hip joint, teasing with feather-light touches as his field spoke of eagerness. "Am I over you or under you, lover? Buried deep inside you, or with my legs spread and your fluids seeping out of me?"

Radiance grinned. "It depends on if I'm jacking off or riding a toy," he said, laughing softly. "But you said jacking off, so..." He purred deeply, pushing his aft against Prowl's pelvis. "Spread out, filled with my spike."

"You do know how much I enjoy that," Prowl rumbled with a nuzzle, his valve cover sliding open as his fingers found and traced Radiance's spike cover. "How much I get off on my lover's enjoyment. How I enjoy playing out a fantasy or two before we're spent. You'd like to play out a fantasy with me?"

"Watching you become undone with as little touch as possible, sweet one," Radiance purred, enjoying the faint scent of lubricant as his cover drew away beneath the light touch, letting the tip of his spike slip out. He lifted himself up, turning so he was facing Prowl, and moved halfway over him, forcing him more onto his back. "It's slow," he grinned. "Torturous."

"It will end in a hard reboot if done right," Prowl shivered in anticipation as he smoothly surrendered full control to the other mech. "Even if we have to keep this round a bit short." His slid his hands up Radiance's sides to caress his bumper and he willingly spread his legs, offering his valve and spike housing along with the rest of his frame. "I am yours to command."

Radiance hummed. "We'll have to work up to the kind of time I'm going to take with you some orn, anyway..." He shifted and settled himself between Prowl's open thighs, spike nudging up against plating, not even half extended. He leaned forward and placed his hands on Prowl's chest, fingers splayed out, and clicked on a light magnetic tug. "If you're very good, if you _relax_ like I want you to..." He moved his hands down, exploring the familiar chassis. "_Maybe_ I will let you overload twice before we need to leave." He looked up, met Prowl's optics. "But only if you can relax."

Prowl groaned and shivered in pleasure, his armor relaxing as he submitted completely, willingly, to his lover. "I look forward to it," he gasped out, optics dimming as his field unfurled with soft, pleasured delight at the promise. "It's been so long since a lover took their time with me."

Radiance smiled and hummed. "I've seen Saxo take his time with you. Not as much as he will in another few centuries when he's older, and after we've taught him." His hands came to settle on Prowl's waist, stroking lightly, teasing with his fingers. "Not as much as another lover has?"

"My first mate," Prowl moaned, his frame open and compliant under Radiance's touch. "He could draw this out for almost two orns by the end. He taught me patience."

"Two orns," Radiance purred deeply, moving down along Prowl's thighs, then traced down around his valve, not touching. "That's quite an accomplishment, we'll have to work towards that together." He quirked his wrists, tilting his palms inward, using the magnets to pull at the platelets without touching them.

Prowl's hips rolled into the almost-touch with a gasp as his helm fell back. "Yes! Yes, I want that. Want to push my limits again. I've missed his attentions."

Radiance pushed and pulled his hands, slowly rotating them, getting close enough to _almost_ touch but never close enough, shifting the platelets between the two tugging fields as Prowl gasped and shifted into the touch and out to heighten the pleasure. "Is this Sunstreaker's sire, or further back?" he asked, hoping to keep his lover's processors occupied and distracted while playing with him.

"Much, much further back," Prowl answered readily, his vents wide and fans humming. "I was only a century into my adult upgrades when I worked up the courage to flirt with him. It feels like lifetimes ago."

"First love," Radiance said, smiling, enjoying the view of the glistening, twitching valve that he was being offered as Prowl tried to push his hips into contact. "Did he tie you down? Tease you?" His voice dipped, enjoying the topic that seemed unlinked to any trauma or the reason the pair were in hiding. "Make love to you?"

"No, insistently, always. He insisted I control myself," Prowl shivered, his temperature rising as much from memories as Radiance's treatments. "He taught me what to hope for, what a mate could be at its best."

Radiance shifted, moving his hands out of the way to slowly, carefully extend his spike, letting it brush up against the opening. "I bet he played with your doorwings," he said, leaning forward and bracing himself on one arm, while palming the other along the bottom edge, squeezing and letting the magnets pull at wires deeper than he could touch. "Was he beautiful?"

"Yes." Prowl moaned shamelessly as he pressed into the touches, his optics dim as he sank fully into the sensations. "I thought so. Not like Saxo is though, not like you. He was already an old mech when I was created. Mentor, lover, mate. He was everything to me while we were together."

It was honestly surprising after feeling so many different kinds of loss in Prowl's field that Radiance knew this wasn't a loss the mech was still grieving. There was nothing but warmth and fondness there. Memories of the good times rather than pain that they ended and the connection had been severed.

"Tell me about him?" Radiance asked, shifting his weight and switching hands, leaned far over Prowl and focused on what he was doing with his fingertips around the other Praxian's plating. "What he was like?"

Prowl smiled, warm and content in the memories. "No looking him up, okay?"

The memory of what happened when he knew too much too quickly had Radiance nodded in agreement without hesitation and Prowl kissed him gently.

"Susurrus was a chef, a good one. He often worked closely with my carrier to plan large events. That's how I first met him when I was a sparkling. I loved how creative he could be, taking such simple materials and _envisioning_ so many fantastic creations. That was before my upgrades, but I was still a smart mech. He had a gift that I'd never comprehend. I could only enjoy. It was his very first lesson, and he was so terribly patient with my first encounter with something that would always be beyond me."

"Creativity, where you are a being of logic," Radiance hummed, settling down on top of Prowl and pressing his mouth against his neck, kissing and sucking. "What was he teaching you to do?"

"Accept that I couldn't do everything," Prowl chuckled with a bemused look. "It was not an easy lesson for me, one I still occasionally forget. I've become very skilled at unconsciously avoiding what I'm not good at and never will be."

Radiance grinned. "That's better than the other way around. By the dozenth time I've caught the same mech gun-running, I'm always tempted to sit him down and advise a lifestyle change." He moved his way up to Prowl's jaw, nibbling just beneath. "And after your upgrades?" he purred.

"Mmm, he knew I was interested ever since my mechling upgrades," Prowl chuckled with a self-deprecating tint to his field. "I didn't work up the courage to really do anything about it for almost three centuries. He was not encouraging me, and neither was anyone else. I learned much later that no one thought it was a good idea for me to become involved with a mech who only had a handful of centuries left, if that much. He taught me so much about loyalty, caring, self-control, pleasure, acceptance, business, the reality of the outside and letting go in the three and a half centuries we had. I wouldn't have avoided the connection even if I'd understood the pain that would come in the last few vorns as he shut down, unable to perform his function anymore. By then I'd witnessed several deactivations, but his ... Susurrus had been happy with his existence without clinging to it. He said that he was one of the blessed ones because he had been allowed to continue until his spark was ready to return to Primus. His end was calm, and as much as it hurt me, I knew he'd been ready to go."

Radiance had kept up his attentions while listening, but near the end, he stopped and nuzzled his face against Prowl's neck, smiling, before lifting his head and drawing his lover into a deep kiss. "I'm glad you had such a teacher," he murmured, then pushed up and flashed Prowl a grin. "Tell me what you enjoyed most about him in berth," he purred, running his hands down the front of Prowl's frame.

Prowl moaned and arched into the touch, taking a moment to organize his thoughts from so long ago. "He treated me as an equal. I was neither conquest nor a way to gain favors to him. My creator was of very high status within our social network. Few who knew who I was did not see me as either well above or well below them."

Radiance kept any conclusions or ideas drawn from that statement carefully to himself and cut the automatic reference searches that such a veiled statement caused in his processors, focusing instead on the beautiful, seductive curve of Prowl's hip and the chevron right above his spike cover, tracing both in turn. "He taught you pleasure, and control," he murmured. "Did he teach you to love power games, or did that come naturally? Or with another?"

"Our power games went no further than you are now," Prowl moaned softly, his optics flickering briefly as he sank into simply enjoying the pleasure for a moment. "Mostly it came naturally. A side affect of my position in society and a rigorously logical processor set."

"It formed you into a tantalizing lover," Radiance purred, then settled down and played with the doorwings for a while, enjoying the warm teek of Prowl's field, the way he was gasping, before his hands lowered back down the frame to pull at the platelets as he slipped his spike inside, slow and smooth. Once fully seated, he made himself comfortable, and held there, watching Prowl's face. "I'm glad I get to reap the benefits of his tutelage," he said, caressing his lover's hips.

"So am I," Prowl struggled to remain still, panting and optics bright as his gaze shifted between where their frames joined to Radiance's visored face. "Out of practice at this. Forgot how good it feels." He reached up to caress a black cheek plate before ghosting a finger over where visor met the metal. "May I see your optics?"

Radiance smiled and cocked his head before switching his primary visual feed over from his visor before lifting it with a thought, revealing same-colored optics. "One of these vorns, I'll succeed in convincing either you or Saxo to get a visor," he said, his hands ghosting over Prowl's pelvis, completely content to stay where he was, no movement in his own hips.

"Probably Saxo," Prowl chuckled, drawing his lover down for a kiss as his frame relaxed, the only effort was his valve lining rubbing along the spike inside it to keep their charge steady. "I like to let others see my face."

"You do have a lovely face, and beautiful optics," Radiance agreed, pulled Prowl's aft into his lap as he settled over him. "What do you think of mine?" he purred deeply, meeting Prowl's optics with his own.

Prowl smiled and brushed Radiance's cheek with his thumb. "Your optics are a noble's," he purred, a statement that mad no effort to hide that Prowl found that a turn-on as he drew the black face plates down for another kiss.

Radiance couldn't stop his grin against Prowl's mouth. "Lucky me," he hummed, and then pushed himself back up, moving into a sit, with a complete view of Prowl's body spread out before him, focusing on his hips. "Try to stay still," he instructed, and held his hands over Prowl's pelvis, then clicked the magnets back on, onlined another custom set in his spike, and rubbed slowly, catching the sensors and lining of Prowl's valve walls between the fields. His gaze stayed on Prowl's face, watching his optics go bright in shock and the intense concentration it took Prowl to moan and nothing more.

"Primus, Radiance!" Prowl gasped as a shudder rippled along his frame. "How?"

Radiance chuckled. "Trickery, beautiful one," he answered, moving his hand in slow circles, the rest of his frame still. "No...moving..." he murmured as Prowl twitched, concentrating on playing the magnets off each other and the metals in between them.

Prowl's vents went wide open as he moaned almost soundlessly, his optics flickering as he attempted to process the pleasure that had almost no corresponding charge. It was new, and part of him that had been abandoned with his adult upgrades reveled in it. This was pleasure. He didn't need to _think_ about it. He didn't even need to understand it since the demand on him was stillness, not reciprocation. It was a bliss he'd long ago given up on enjoying again.

Radiance smiled and enjoyed his view and the small twitches that he could see going through the frame despite Prowl's best effort. "I think, we will take this very, very slow, until you can't stand it. Don't worry if you can't make it very long, I'll understand," he purred.

Pride, stubbornness and a level of self-knowledge Prowl had spent a long lifetime developing all kicked in at once and he growled in response to the challenge. Optics flashing he grinned up at his lover with a slightly insane grin. "You have no idea what you've just begun."

"Mhmm," Radiance hummed, almost indulgently, although he knew perfectly well the will he was going up against here. "We'll just see. We have to leave in half a joor if we want to be on time."

Prowl rippled his valve around his lover, silently asking if he was allowed to play without moving too. "Which might mean we'll have to stop and pick up when the day is over."

"And wouldn't that be unfortunate," Radiance grinned, making no indication that Prowl needed to stop. He brought his other hand forward and rubbed them next to each other, teasing and slow. "I'm not sure I want to spend the day like that, I'll just have to try my hardest."

He moved quietly for a while, enjoying Prowl's gasps and the way he could feel the hips wanting to lift off the berth, admiring the self restraint it was taking his lover to keep still. "Imagine tying Saxo up, doing this to him while you talk to him, giving him no say in the matter."

"He'd either never last, or glitch and not move until I hardlined that it was okay," Prowl moaned, only mildly disturbed by the facts. It wasn't as if Radiance knew what they'd been through, and it was a reasonable idea to normal mecha. "Hopefully the first."

"We'll have to try and see," Radiance shivered. "I bet he'd enjoy it. Probably last longer if you don't talk to him, though." He moved one hand up to caress over Prowl's spike cover, tracing magnetized fingers around the edges. It snapped open with a deep moan from Prowl as his spike extended into the field in rush.

"Know he would," Prowl gasped, flexing his valve in a ripple along Radiance's spike, rubbing it in tiny motions. When Radiance moved to trace his chevron Prowl keened and bucked, startled as much as blissed out by the sudden effect of strong electromagnets so close to his processors.

Radiance's engines revved at the sight of movement, thrilled to have been able to cause it, then curled his fingers around the extended spike without touching and started to stroke as he rubbed over Prowl's valve, his own spike starting to ache with the effort of not moving. "Damn, mech," he gasped.

"Can't wait until we have orns to play this out properly," Prowl's moan shivered, his optics bright as it finally sank in that as worked up as he felt, his charge was barely above normal. He focused more effort on working every part of his valve mechanics to stimulate the spike inside him while the magnetic field moving along his spike drew an undulating, moaning keen from his vocalizer. "Looking forward to my turn to tease you," he panted.

"As payback?" Radiance asked, voice starting to strain with the same frustrating buildup of sensation with no accompanying charge in his system. "Think I'd enjoy that. Valve's tight, lover, something you want?" he purred teasingly.

"To see how much I remember of how to take my time," Prowl moaned, his optics flickering. "Want you to move, to flood me with your pleasures."

Radiance gave a soft, moaning gasp, and let one finger ghost up and down Prowl's spike as he twitched his hips, just slightly. "Relaxed yet?" he asked, heat surging through him at the sight of Prowl's sprawled frame, the sound of his pants, the sultry, _hungry_ look on those normally stern faceplates.

"Very," Prowl relaxed every cable and tensor in his fame, allowing him to go limp under his lover. "It feels good."

"Good," Radiance purred. "That's all I ask." Slowly, very, very slowly, he started to rock his hips, no more than a barely perceptible twitch at first, as light as he could stand it, despite the straining need evidenced by his fans.

It seemed to take an _eternity_ before he allowed himself to pull any real visible length of his spike out to watch disappearing again, and by then he was shaking almost as badly as Prowl was. His fingers relaxed around his lover's spike, stroking in time with the gradual, torturous pace he was trying to hold. Charge started to flicker and grow, Radiance groaned, and in one, sudden thrust, couldn't hold that speed and his frame bucked forward as he drove into his lover.

It was the signal a nearly delirious Prowl was waiting for. He reached up to grab Radiance's shoulders as his hips rotated and knees came up, curling his legs along his lover's. "Yes," Prowl hissed, shivering with the waves of pleasure rolling through him. He pulled Radiance down for a heated kiss and bucked his hips up, demanding, while his valve tightened and rippled, trying to pull the spike in deeper.

Radiance only too happily complied, panting against Prowl's mouth, cradling his lover's helm, using all of his strength to hold out as long as he could. "Lover, lover," he moaned. "Let go, give in, let me hold you while you rock."

With a moan Prowl stopped resisting, shifted fractionally for the next thrust and shuddered with the rush of pleasure that crackled through him. With one more tiny shift Radiance's next thrust exploded sensation through him and Prowl's frame tightened. He keened and his helm fell back, his optics flickering and features tight with bliss that overrode even his ability to think, and he didn't hear Radiance's shout above him, or feel the next hard drive of his lover's spike, but the transfluid that flooded him and the releasing charge that jumped from frame to frame pushed a second, whiting-out overload.

When he finished booting, Prowl was first aware of the frame above his, the arm curled around his head, the fingers running over his helm. "That was very good," Radiance murmured, pleasure and pride clear in his field and in the soft kiss he pressed against Prowl's mouth.

Prowl tried to return it, uncoordinated though he was, and hummed something to the affirmative. He could be quite content to remain just like this for quite a while if he didn't have an obligation that required cleaning up and moving, relaxed and contented under the stroking magnetized hands that were roaming over his frame, rubbing and soothing.

All too soon, Radiance nuzzled him. "We need to leave soon. And we should probably wash first if you don't want to cause a scandal."

"True, even if they're all sure we're already doing this," Prowl murmured, claiming a last lingering kiss before he was ready to move. Cleaning up went fast with two mecha skilled at removing evidence of a quick frag and before long they were on their way to pick up the younglings, excited for the day and to spend that time with each other.


	29. Searching

Starcrossed 29: Searching  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Radiance made his way easily through the mess that was the inside of the private home his team had just raided, observing more than anything as mecha he'd trained himself and trusted with his life finished trussing their prisoners up for transport. "Excellent," he praised his second-in-command, Charade, and got a nod in response from the serious, red-visored mech. "This is definitely a main stash, I think you could take Iacon hostage with the firepower in here."

Charade stood up, dusted his hands off, and looked around. "If you were creative with it," he rumbled. "Which you would be."

Radiance chuckled and started to answer, when a vid screen in the next room over set to a live newsfeed caught his optic. He could see weaponsfire and smoke on the screen and he frowned, pushing past Charade to get closer.

Charade followed. "That's been running since we got here, 's in Polyhex, though. Riots."

Radiance's head snapped around. "Polyhex?"

Charade nodded. "Yeah, was listening while we were waiting, you were still out back. Couple noble houses've been razed, most mecha in 'em killed. Guttersmecha desperate for energon, looks like."

Radiance's optics widened behind his visor when he realized why the picture on the screen had caught his attention, finally seeing what was so familiar through the smoke and haze. The Calidar estate. "Take over," he snapped to his second, then turned and ran outside, rolling onto the street and transforming, taking off as soon as wheels hit pavement. ::_Pantera!_::

::Get Whiplash to get Saxo in the conversation. I don't care how.:: Prowl's voice was tight, commanding in a way Radiance had only heard the briefest hints of before. It was a voice that not only could command a small army, but probably had. It was also a voice that said that the mech was up to his optics in other conversations at the moment, and quite possibly a physical altercation.

Radiance tried to ping Jazz and got the signal immediately rejected, meaning he was too far underground in Special Ops's shielded area, something that Prowl had apparently already tried. His engines growled. "Why does it have to be Whiplash?" he muttered to himself. ::Hey!:: he pinged the matte black Ops mech. It took the routing through several layers and increasing levels of scrutiny but within half a klik Whiplash finally responded.

::Which explosion got you all bent out of shape?:: the Ops commander growled, not hiding that he was having a bad morning too.

::The one that Saxo needs to hear about,:: Radiance said, scowling, unable to find it in himself to really care how rough of an orn Whiplash was having. ::I need him in comm range, right now.::

::Polyhex then,:: Whiplash muttered. ::Give me a klik. I have to pull him out of a room.::

The line went dead, then Jazz was on it. Not actually in comm range, but his signal run through the system that connected the Ops realm to the outside.

::Do you know what's going on?:: was the first thing Radiance asked, holding off on linking Prowl in, wanting to keep the Enforcer's processors as uncluttered as possible.

::Whiplash pulled me and is not happy about it, that's all I know,:: Jazz said.

::It'll be on any newsfeed you want to access. Energon riots in Polyhex, and...:: Radiance hesitated for a moment, not sure how Jazz would react to hearing his creation's designation. ::The estate that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were at has been raided, it looks destroyed.::

Silence.

::Saxo?::

::Where is Pantera?:: Jazz's voice was flat.

::Linking him in,:: Radiance said, and sent the request for conference through to Prowl.

Prowl was on the line almost immediately, the hum of many background conversations to this one audible on the line. ::Saxo. I'll be headed to Polyhex as soon as I finish arrangements. Within the joor.::

::I'm coming with you,:: Radiance and Jazz said in unison.

::I'll get through Whiplash, just tell me where to meet you,:: Jazz added.

::The apartment,:: Prowl said, his tone mildly surprised but not about to argue with his mate on an open conference call with half the precinct brass.

::You are not going, Radiance,:: Motor's rumble stopped the SWAT commander's statement. ::Pantera still has some kin-rights to his creations. You do not yet.::

::Mortar!:: Radiance protested, while Jazz vanished from the line to get through his own commander. ::I have to! You don't need me here, Charade-::

::Is a perfectly capable officer. He's also not _you_ and I need _you_ here,:: Mortar insisted. ::You know full well the workload going on right now. We're lucky we aren't in the same situation as Polyhex. I wouldn't let Pantera go if I had any options in the matter.::

:Radiance, you are needed here,:: Prowl's voice was calm. ::Duty comes first.::

Radiance throttled back on the angry growl that was trying to force out of his engines. ::Request permission to temporarily go off-duty until Pantera and his mate have left for Polyhex,:: he said stiffly.

::Permission granted,:: Mortar said, as kind as possible, not that Radiance cared. ::But Radiance-::

::What?:: Radiance snapped, only barely remembering that he loved his job and wanted to keep it.

::You're scheduled for a few orns off as soon as everything calms down with all the overtime you've put in. I suggest directing your focus on making it calm down as quickly as possible.::

::Will do, sir,:: Radiance said, hitting his breaks, spinning, and setting off towards Prowl and Jazz's apartment.

::Got out,:: Jazz's voice reappeared on the line, this time through his own comm line. ::I'll be home in twenty kliks, Pantera.::

::I'll be longer,:: Prowl warned him. ::Start packing. Extra rations, high grade, small and large credit sticks, weapons. Radiance will be there to see us off but can't join us until Praxus calms.::

::Actually I'll be there before you,:: Radiance said. ::I'll wait outside.::

::I'll be there soon. Pantera, hurry,:: Jazz said.

::I'll do my best.:: Prowl promised, the number of comm lines he was managing already going down. ::Longsight's youngest's mate is a shuttle and flying us to Polyhex.::

There was a pause as Jazz translated that to what he needed to know. ::Understood,:: he agreed before closing the line to allow his mate to deal with whatever he needed to. By the time he arrived at the lift to his apartment Radiance was already there and trying not to fidget.

"Hey," Jazz greeted, tense, not pausing on his way in or checking to make sure that Radiance was following him but for the warm, relieved flare of his field against his lover's. His chassis still had the remnants of hastily-wiped energon covering it, and had worked into the joints of his fingers.

Radiance waited until the lift had closed and began to move. "What can I do to help?"

"Um," Jazz said, holding hand to forehelm, shuttering his optics for a moment before opening them again and taking a closer look at his hand, frowning at it. "We've got a stash of weapons behind the berth, that panel lifts away, that aren't entirely legal. Can you get them loaded and not arrest us? I need to jump under some solvent."

"Sure thing," Radiance patted his shoulder gently, his field rich with understanding and acceptance. "Though I'm fairly sure you're allowed anything you want."

Jazz gave a half-grin. "Yeah. But Pantera isn't, and I definitely can't let anyone else have access to them." The door opened and they stepped out, Jazz shifting uncomfortably in his plating as he moved. "And-" he said, shaking his head again, looking almost overcharged with the movement and the frown that accompanied it. "Got pulled from a room, I'm going to be useless if I don't get this charge out."

"Before or after you clean up?" Radiance asked, trusting that Jazz wouldn't ask at a time like this, even obliquely, if it wasn't okay with Prowl.

"Before," Jazz said firmly, as they stepped onto the smaller lift that took them up to the second level. "Fragging _itches_."

Radiance nodded and pressed against Jazz's plating as he claimed a kiss. "Hardline is what I can do the fastest."

Jazz nodded and returned the kiss almost automatically as his interfacing dataport spiraled open, then he took Radiance's hand in his own and guided it down between them and let his spike extend against it, aching for contact, for _finish_. "Valve or hand, I don't care, this'll make it quicker."

"Anything you need," Radiance promised. He closed his hand around the unique ruffled length and plugged into the offered port. He shifted to brace against Jazz's back to guide him into the washrack, a luxury that he was still wrapping his processors around them affording so easily, while he stroked and pulsed. When they were safely in the easily cleaned space, he turned on the magnets in his palm and put his full effort into overloading his lover as hard and fast as he could. Technique and enjoyment were ignored. It was all about giving Jazz what he needed as quickly as possible.

Jazz shuddered, helm pressed to Radiance's shoulder as his fingers dug in and held on, then groaned, hips jerking into the touch and processor going fuzzy with the charge pulses that Radiance was pushing through. "Radiance," he gasped, and in less than a klik, his frame seized and pressed against the other. "Frag-_frag!_" Jazz shouted, charge racing through him and crackling out into the air, jumping across frames as he shot into dark, coaxing fingers.

Short, intense, and processor-clearing. Jazz slumped for a moment, panting heavily, then shivered and shook himself once more, lifting his head. "Thank you. That helped a lot."

Radiance let go and shifted to catch another kiss while he worked to dissipate the mild charge that had built up in his systems. "Good. You'll need your processors about you." With that he let go and stepped away so Jazz could clean up.

Jazz nodded, grim, as plating shifted and resettled back around him. "Haven't been able to get ahold of anyone in Polyhex who knows details-I doubt there are any. No one's had time to sort things through." He triggered the solvent sprays and stepped into them, holding his arms out. "Join you once I'm done."

Radiance nodded and went to start prepping their weapons cache and not think about the fact that he wasn't going with them as he climbed onto the berth and looked at the metal sheeting of the walls right above the headboard. He ran his fingers around the seam, felt enough of a give to indicate which plate wasn't attached to the rest, and switched the magnets on in one hand and drew back, lifting it away.

Behind was a small storage area, something not uncommon as a feature in security-enhanced apartments like these ones. Inside the unlit space were two rows of weapons all laid out in a perfect order that had to be Prowl's doing. The first were blasters, six in all, the second row contained three heavy riffles. Along each side were enough compatible charges to keep them all firing for a very long time. None of them were armed, a storage safety standard that Radiance was grateful they complied with. Spaced between the ranged weapons were close quarters ones, vibro and energon blades, and those did look fully charged.

It was impressive, even by the SWAT officer's standards. With a low hum he pulled the entire ranged stash out onto the berth, snatched a handful of charges, and started working on getting them loaded.

Every single one was a weapon banned on the open market, and Radiance had seized plenty of these models in his time. He had to give his lovers credit for their choices, and admitted to himself that these were probably the same he would choose as well, if he was ever going to keep black market finds for himself. Distantly, he heard the sound of the washracks powering down, a brief drying cycle, and then Jazz reappeared, walking past him and going downstairs.

Five kliks, and then Jazz reappeared, looking quickly over the weapons and then smiling at Radiance. "Figured you'd know about these models."

"I have to," he grinned at Jazz. "I have to know what's legal, and how to secure what isn't." He paused as he finished the last of the blasters and reached for a riffle. "How much experience do you and Pantera have in handling these in a firefight?" He extended his field, brushing against Jazz with solid reassurance that he only wanted to know for their safety.

"More than I'd like and enough to handle ourselves," Prowl gave a non-answer as he walked in right for Jazz to claim a kiss. "You don't have to come, love," he murmured quietly enough that only Jazz heard him.

"I know, and I am," Jazz said, voice equally low and tone that would take no argument. "You saw everything I left out for you? I split the credit sticks and energon between us."

Prowl nodded and kissed him lightly. "In my subspace." He turned to Radiance, nodded and began the process of checking and stashing the loaded and charged weapons in his frame while handing every other one to Jazz. Only a single blaster went in each subspace, and Jazz received more than half the blades.

"With any luck, the rioting will have quieted down by the time you get there," Radiance said. "It still looks bad, but-" He watched one of the more deadly weapons get tucked away. "I don't want you to need those."

"Neither do we," Jazz assured him.

Radiance nodded, not at all happy about this situation. "Do you have a plan?" he asked, looking to Prowl.

"One or two, depending on how cooperative the locals are," he shivered his frame, settling every plate in place so it looked like he was no more armed than he should be: a single standard-issue blaster, a shock baton and his shoulder launchers, currently folded down. "However it plays out, I'm going to hack into the estate systems and see how many perpetrators I can identify while I look for where the younglings were when this all started." There was a fractional pause before his voice quieted. "I'm going to try and find Amberwave and T'kach as well."

"T'kach?" Radiance glanced at Prowl only to realize that Jazz had the same expression.

"I'll tell you about him later," Prowl groaned at his own mistake and gave Radiance an apologetic look. "Someone else not to look up, okay?"

"All right," Radiance nodded. "I might be stuck in Praxus, but I'm not out of comm range. I've got resources to put to bear on this."

Prowl gave him a painfully sad smile and leaned in to kiss him soundly. "Thank you, lover. We will remain in touch."

Jazz drew Radiance in for a kiss as soon as Prowl had moved away. "Thank you," he murmured, then straightened. "When are we meeting the shuttle?"

"Any klik now," Prowl glanced around, then at Radiance. "You know you can stay here, if you want. If things get bad there are other weapon stashes."

Radiance inclined his head. "Thank you. Though I'm doing everything I can to make sure things _don't_ get bad here." He rose to his pedes and put a hand on each of their shoulders, then slid to the backs of their necks. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"We will be," Jazz said, leaning in to touch their helms together, just as the faint sound of an approaching shuttle became audible.

"We will return to you if it is at all possible," Prowl promised as well, relaxing in the intimacy that was far too early for their relationship but that he needed and wanted very badly. "Keep yourself and your team safe, Radiance. I don't want to come home to have lost you."

Radiance pulled Prowl in to kiss him deeply, then turned to Jazz for the same. "Sounds like the shuttle is here. Go on before I forget why I'm not going with it."

"We'll keep in contact," Jazz promised, before turning and leaving with his mate, Radiance almost having to lock his joints to keep himself from following. Once he heard the lift closing, he headed over to the windows to look down at the street, seeing the waiting shuttle, and not moving until his lovers had climbed in and were safely in the air. He sighed, took a moment to gather himself, stopped watching the newsfeed from Polyhex, and commed his Second to find out where his team was.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

By the time they arrived in Polyhex, the noble quarters that had experienced the heaviest rioting and looting had been abandoned by everyone but the scant forces of Enforcers that could be spared for searches and the hazard teams that were still working on the last of the chemical fires that had been started. The shuttle was able to land within visual range of the estate, and Jazz's field teeked grim as he left the shuttle, Prowl right behind him. "Please tell me we have the wrong one and you actually meant that one over there," he said, pointing to a nearby estate that looked hardly touched.

The one in front of them looked like it had been attacked. Certainly with grenades, likely with heavier artillery. The shuttle transformed behind them and gave a low, shocked whistle.

"Thank you for the ride, Windcrest," Prowl told the shuttle, though his full focus was in front of him. He barely heard the response or Jazz's assurance that they would comm if they needed anything. With only the faintest quiver of his doorwings he transformed and drove onto the estate, pinging the local Enforcer data net to find out who the officer in charge was, only to find there was none officially listed, the previous officer having been pulled six joors prior and none having logged back in to replace him.

As soon as they were spotted, though, an Enforcer with officer markings turned around and approached them, giving the universal signal for them to transform back into root mode immediately.

"State your business," the officer, whose ID ping came back as Fielder, commanded. "This area is restricted."

"Our creations were here when the attack happened," Prowl said simply. "We are here to help look for them and provide any resources we can towards recovering them."

Fielder looked Prowl up and down, taking note of his official markings as a lowly patrol officer out of Praxus, largely ignored Jazz with his civilian appearance, then shook his head. "Sorry, you're not in your jurisdiction here, and it's restricted to even you. I can't let the family of every mecha who was inside just wander around."

Prowl's doorwings twitched up, but before he could respond, Jazz stepped around him, giving the officer a huge grin. "Hi there," he said, waving, ignoring the unimpressed and dubious look the mech gave him. "Why don't you stop talking, take a nanoklik to ID me, get over the results as quickly as you can, and _move_," he said, stepping forward, doorwings flared out. "Because I do not have the time to stand around here while you gape and tempt me to arrest you for obstruction of an Imperial agent."

Behind him Prowl smirked, but restrained the snicker to his field where Jazz could teek it.

Fielder glared at him, but did the ID ping. Everybody in visual range knew when he got the results back by the way he nearly jumped away from Jazz, optics bright.

"Ur, right. Yes, Sir. What are the designations and frame stages of who you're looking for?" Fielder was socially backpedaling fast.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, younglings," Jazz said, speaking the names of his creations out loud for the first time since they had been brought here. His doorwings lowered down from the imposing stance but he stayed tense, standing in front of his mate, irrationally wanting to shield him from what he was sure they were going to hear.

But instead, the officer shook his head. "I'm sorry, no youngling frames have been recovered yet, and the few survivors have been adults."

"Do any positive IDs include Amberwave, Raela or T'kach?" Prowl asked, though Jazz noted that the set of his doorwings indicated he had mixed emotions on the answer.

Fielder took a moment to search what few results they had, and shook his head. "We have found none, deactivated or otherwise."

Prowl simply nodded, though Jazz could teek a knotting of energy that meant Prowl was desperate to _move_ because he knew where answers were. Yet it was Jazz who held the rank, so he deferred to his mate.

"Just make sure your team knows who we are and doesn't interfere," Jazz said, and brushed past the mech.

"There are chemical hazards-" Fielder started to say, but Jazz turned and gave him a look.

"I think I know how to identify chemical hazards," he said. "Anything in there beyond a Class III?"

Fielder shook his head. "Nothing over Class I."

"Then we'll be fine," Jazz said, and started to walk, before pausing and look at him. "Oh, and please send your command protocols to my mate, he will be taking charge." At Fielder's shocked expression, Jazz's features softened. "I'm sure there are others in this city who could use your help, and he is more than qualified for this."

"Yes, Sir," Fielder said, and promptly sent the schematics, protocols, and other relevant data over.

"Thank you. I will ensure all relevant reports are forwarded to the precinct chief," Prowl inclined his helm to Fielder before taking off after Jazz, catching up with him in two steps and taking the lead with a purposeful stride that spoke of knowing exactly where to find what he wanted. His comm system lit up, introducing himself to the Enforcers on site, giving directions to the most likely locations that mecha would have taken refuge in and where to dig the command center out so they could hopefully find out what had happened in detail with court-quality information.

Pleasant surprise greeted the information, with quiet gratitude sent back to him over the lines, followed by an increase in determination of the mecha working to clear everything out.

Jazz followed silently through the debris and halls that his mate knew and navigated easily, even as wrecked as they were. ::T'kach?:: he asked, encrypting the comm.

::My second creation. He was raised in Iacon and was being trained under Amberwave.:: Prowl included an image file from the single encounter he'd had with the mech, one that gave little indication they knew who the other was at the time. ::He would have taken up the secondary command position in the kitchen and directed resources from there while Amberwave did so from the primary command hub on the bottom floor.::

Jazz nodded as they picked their way through the wreckage of a collapsed section of ceiling. ::Perhaps the bottom floor was more insulated from damage,:: he said, though his field held little real hope of that. ::I did not realize you knew any of your other creations' designations.::

::It was an accident. Amberwave said one was here when I first brought the sparklings. I chose not to meet him then. Several vorns later I heard a mech speaking about Amberwave's apprentice, T'kach. It took very little from there to piece together his life.:: Prowl paused, his frame stilling as self-hate mixed with loosing himself flickered through his field. ::I did a great deal of damage to my coding when I attempted to raise our creations. I was never intended to be a creator, only a carrier.::

::I thought you were a marvelous creator, and a perfect sire,:: Jazz said quietly, hands settling on his mate's hips from behind. ::Come on, they might be knocked offline somewhere, or hiding.::

::The prize is where Amberwave would have been,:: Prowl leaned into the touch briefly, his field skittering with thanks at the thought that he'd done well. ::Once I log in, I can see where they were before the network went down.::

They moved deeper into the estate, finding the path mostly clear for them, until they were very nearly at where the command center would be, and were faced with a giant section of energon-covered debris that the local Enforcers were already working at clearing away. Most of them stopped and offered brief salutes to the arriving pair before continuing at their work, while one stepped away entirely.

"We're almost through," he said, absentmindedly licking at a drop that was running down his wrist. "It looks like there was an explosion in the energon lines right above this, the collapse crushed several of the mecha who were trying to get in. Lucky timing for a line backup."

"It's more likely an intentional act by the estate seneschal," Prowl scanned the debris field and went to work, Jazz moving alongside him. Quiet words directed those working to more effective use of their energy, but mostly Prowl simply focused on digging. It helped him focus his processors, his systems having become more action centric since escaping Vortex. While it didn't show on the outside, he had never stopped trying to remote access the estate, trying one system and subsystem after another and continuing to cycle through every come channel he knew or could dig up from those who had lived here.

"Think anyone is still back there?" the commander asked dubiously.

"Likely not alive," Jazz said, voice quiet as he accepted a chunk of sheet metal to toss out of the way, leaning in close to his mate once he had, his field steady and calm. "Unless something has caused their comms to malfunction, they are either deactivated or escaped by another means."

One of the Enforcers gave a triumphant cry, interrupting anything the commander might have said in response, and announced that they could see through to the other side from there.

Prowl immediately tried Amberwatch's comm again, along with Raela's, without reply while they all worked to open a gap large enough to get through. Prowl's doorwings were vibrating with pent up need to search further in by the time there was enough of a gap for him to get through. "Azimuth, Casie, Fracture: widen the opening in case of injured survivors. Hook Up, Knocker, Race: check out the primary safety area," he pinged them the location and directions. On the schematic they had it looked like any other storage room. Prowl knew differently from running an estate. In some things the nobility were just too small a group to vary that much.

He stopped for long enough to make sure all six Enforcers were working on their assigned tasks before making his way up to the gap and ducking his way through, Jazz right behind him, and they found themselves in the last section of hall that ended with a door that had been blasted off and was hanging lopsidedly, sparking from where it was damaged.

Prowl started for it, but Jazz's hand wrapped around his arm, stopping him, before he stepped out in front and ducked carefully through the entry, his hand up and back as he looked around inside. After a few moments, his frame sagged just barely and he shook his head, but gestured for Prowl to follow and enter before moving completely in.

There were a scattering of frames on the floor, none that Jazz recognized, though he quietly grieved the loss of the very, very young sparkling that the smaller of adults had tried to shield with her frame. A youngling was among the grayed number as well, but it bore no resemblance to either twin to Jazz's optic. So while Prowl stopped to look the deactivated over, he went for the second doorway, one that led into the maze of servant tunnels, and muttered a curse to himself as he looked down the long, clear, very empty hall. "This one isn't on the public schematics," he said, shaking his head again.

"Help me unplug and lay Amberwave on the floor," Prowl responded, his voice cool and flat as he worked to untangle and unplug a mech missing most of his chest from the central control station in the room. "I'll update the schematics when I log in."

Jazz turned and joined his mate, carefully wrapping his arm around the wrecked torso after folding one of the doorwings out of the way while Prowl worked at the cables leading into the console, some of which had melted at the ends. "It was probably a security feature, but they'll have to rebuild this entire place anyway," he said, trying to keep verbal conversation calm, unemotional, and not ask about the obvious Praxian build or the mech's apparent post, not until he could get Prowl alone. He already had enough clues to realize that this was the relative that Prowl had entrusted with their sparklings. What he didn't know was how close a relative it was, and how much Prowl cared about him.

Prowl finished with the connections, freeing the frame, and together they lifted it up and away and settled it on the floor. Jazz simply watched as his mate displayed a skill at hacking he had largely forgotten Prowl was so good at. Most of the plugs were useless, but Prowl found a couple undamaged ones that were normally hidden and used them to assess the system's overall condition.

Less than half a klik later Prowl had moved onto removing panels to hardwire himself in.

Jazz stood behind him, hands on his shoulders, letting the local Enforcers take care of the work of removing the grayed frames, his entire focus on his mate. "Anything?" he asked softly after a silent klik, growing tension driving him to speak and break that silence.

"Some can be identified, I have several designations," Prowl reported as he began downloading the relevant data to an evidence drive. "They are _very_ heavily armed for guttermecha desperate for energon."

Jazz frowned, pulled a cable, and reached around Prowl, tapping it against his chest. "Show me."

Prowl spiraled open a port immediately and queued up the images and evidence that indicated weapons heavier than what they carried, thing far beyond the means of most working mecha, much less those from the gutters. ~I believe there were two separate groups involved. The heavily armed mecha were out to kill and destroy, but did little practical material looting and went for larger, expensive items and the highest quality high grade. Those than came behind them didn't hurt anyone, a few even helped those still functioning, but went right for the useful looting. Energon, supplements, repair supplies. The things we know are of highest value to those scraping by.~

Jazz skimmed over what Prowl was showing him, jumping from file to file, watching the progression of the takeover of the estate. ~They hid under the cover of the guttermecha,~ he said. ~Made sure they were the ones who followed and were caught by any Enforcers while they got out and disappeared into the energon riots. They might have even started the whole thing. Specifically targeted and took down one estate at a time-~ He double checked that guess with the reports being logged on the Enforcer net. ~Chose those without a significant private guard. Frag! They aren't just lost or hiding out there somewhere, if they're not here they were taken.~

~Yes.~ Prowl agreed with a grim storm of creator protocol rage brewing until the complete emotional lockdown of his processors. ~The question is now why _them_, when more valuable youths were deactivated,~ he flashed to the newly separated one. ~They would not have been easy to take. Sunstreaker is still extremely aggressive.~

~They have high quality frames,~ Jazz said quietly, ignoring the unsettling churn in his tanks at the thought of his creation's violent nature. He glanced around at the sparkling. ~That one does too, by the looks of it, but might have been too young to sell for what they want. If they didn't take a sparkling, they're probably not feeding into an interfacing market, a newly separated sparkling will go for _mint_ on one of those.~

Prowl's frame buckled, nearly dropping him to his knees before he caught himself on the consol with locked arms. Shock, both at the information and almost casual delivery stalled his processors in a sea of white that soon turned to horror. Of course he'd known, in the most abstract of ways, that such things existed. It wasn't part of his reality, though, nothing he'd ever crossed paths with, even on a secondary or tertiary level.

~What would they take younglings like ours for?~ Prowl finally managed to get across. It was better to know now, to be ready, than to be shocked by where this would take them when he needed his wits about him.

Jazz's hold around his mate tightened, regret that he'd had to eliminate such a possibility for them strong in his field. ~There are, unfortunately, many different possibilities. Slaves, illegal workers, small frames that can fit in hazardous places most adults can't, youngling pits, mining, being trained to fight...there are more, none of them good,~ he said sadly.

Prowl trembled in Jazz's embrace, accepting both comfort and information as the protocols he'd installed in their very first safehouse fought a battle against the intensity until Prowl put his intentional effort into backing them and his emotional protocols dropped to the background once more. ~We'll need to find as many of the first group, the gang mecha, as possible, and soon.~

~Send the best images you can find of them over to the Commissioner,~ Jazz instructed. ~I'll give him his orders once you have.~

Prowl nodded, gathered a packet of the best images, cross-referenced with the few designations he had, and sent it.

Jazz watched until the commissioner had acknowledged the receipt of it, then promptly sent a comm ping to the mech's private line, immediately getting it rejected. He tried again, more insistently, and the line opened to an annoyed growl that they both heard, Jazz keeping the conversation open to his mate through the hardline.

::Who are you and how did you get this frequency?::

::My designation is Saxo and I got this frequency from a database which stores all city commissioners' private frequencies, which I have access to. My credentials,:: he databurst his ID information over, ::And if you wish you double check my rank and identity, an officer called Fielder has already done so.::

There was a pause, and then a slightly-cowed sounding, ::How can I help you, Saxo?::

Jazz nuzzled Prowl's helm. ::You just received a packet of images from the Praxian Enforcer, designation Pantera, of some of the mecha involved in this orn's violence. If arrested, they are Imperial prisoners, and are to be processed by me alone. You will make sure every Enforcer in this city has the same images, and every mecha taken prisoner for involvement with the riots will be shown the same images and questioned for information regarding them should they recognize any. Anything learned is to be sent directly to myself and Pantera. They are top priority above everything but the safety of the city and her citizens, understood?::

::Understood,:: the commissioner said promptly, and Jazz cut the line.

~That will make the net very tight around them, with any luck they won't slip out,~ he sighed, holding Prowl tightly.

~Agreed,~ Prowl leaned into the contact, openly grateful by his mate's use of authority and more than a bit turned on by it despite the situation. ~Thank you, love. What is the best use of my talents in this kind of hunt?~

~I can get you hooked up to the city's security net,~ Jazz said. ~That's where I'd have you as most useful, monitoring without the pressure of needing to report or engage. What would you most like to do, what would help you?~ he asked, feeling the increasingly intense knot of tension coming from his lover's frame.

~That will work nicely,~ Prowl purred, the option to do something so useful and so close to his spark's purpose easing some of the stress he was under. Monitoring, data searches, cross referencing and analyzing. Those were things he excelled at and enjoyed.

Jazz nodded in understanding and started the loop-jumping process of transferring control of the estate search back over to a Polyhex Enforcer while getting his mate access codes for the city's networks. ~I will do everything I can to bring them back to you,~ he promised, relieved that he could do as much as he could to help his mate. For all the grief he'd caused, at least he could do this much in penance.

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Jazz got the first comm for a potential witness to the mecha they were searching for the next orn, long enough that nerves were starting to fray, and the comm came as a welcome relief and something to do. He drove to a station halfway across the city, leaving Prowl in the precinct building to continue monitoring, and was immediately shown to an overstuffed mass cell, full of battered and grimy looking mecha.

"Which one?" Jazz asked, looking through the crowd.

"That one," the Enforcer who was showing him in said, pointing to a mech who was sitting on the floor, back to the wall, looking miserable.

Jazz cocked his head. Guttersmech, not in overall good repair or health. "What was he arrested for?"

"General rioting and disruption."

"I'd like to take him with me," Jazz said. "If what he knows is true and valuable, I'll ask that he be released."

The Enforcer just nodded, and Jazz waited while the single mech was fished out of the crowd and brought to him.

"Come on," he said, gesturing with his head. "Lunch. And don't try to run, I promise I'll just catch you and make your life worse."

The guttersmech nodded, his field submissive and just a tiny bit hopeful. He'd heard, or been told, what Jazz had said. He also remained close to the Praxian civilian frame as they left the precinct jail, reassured by the clear deference the local Enforcers gave Jazz.

Jazz led him in silence until they were outside and heading for the small cafe next to the precinct headquarters that mostly catered to the Enforcers. "What's your designation?" he asked as they walked.

"Temoin, sir," the mech tried not to look too skittish around all the Enforcers. It only drew their attention, and he didn't want to be chased before he got the promised meal.

"You can relax," Jazz said, as gently as he could. "I'm not going to do anything to you. And there's a very good deal on the table right now." They reached the counter and Jazz ordered, then looked at the mech. "Anything you want. You can get extra to take with if you'd like."

Temion tried not to panic at the level of choices he had never encountered before, but survival instincts that had kept him alive this long quickly kicked in. One cube of high grade would fill his tanks and give him a nice buzz, and three regular cubes would keep his entire little cadre, what was left of it anyway, in fuel for most of the decaorn. He gave Jazz a quick glance, just to make sure he hadn't overstepped the offer, but the Praxian simply nodded to both him and the much more subtle glance the server gave him.

Once they had their order, Temoin quickly tucking the regular cubes into subspace, nervous about them being taken away as leverage, Jazz guided him over to a small table in a back corner of the well-lit room, away from the majority of the other mecha. "Simply put," he said, opening a comm line to his mate so he could listen, "So far you're my only witness, and all I want is to know what you saw. You believe you saw three of the mecha that were shown to you. Please tell me what you were doing, and what you saw." At the mech's nervous glance at the Enforcers, Jazz reached over and touched his arm with a comforting brush of his field. His optics glanced towards the subspace pocket with the fuel. "I'm not looking to punish you, here. What is that, a couple decaorns of fuel for you? Less if you're taking for more?"

"Most of a decaorn for my cadre, if we don't have to run from anyone," Temoin said honestly between quick gulps of the high grade, far too well trained at having to consume it quickly or lose it. "I ... I was hiding, sure they were looking for more." His optics flicked to the Enforcers that were studiously ignoring them before settling on Jazz a little more easily. "I was hiding well enough that the five gang mecha dragging three younglings that looked _far_ too nice to be theirs didn't notice me. I could hear 'em arguing about having grabbed too many, that the buyer would only take two."

He shivered and scrunched in on himself. "So one pushed the younglings into the center and they all made circle around them. He told the younglings that he could only keep two, so one would have do die. If all three were still alive in five kliks, he'd shoot one at random." His optics brightened to a near-unseeing level and he whimpered to himself. "There was a yellow one, and he just launched himself at the blue and yellow one, and the red one was right behind him. They…they tore him apart. I never thought anything that young could be that savage. It was over in less than a klik."

Nothing about Jazz changed, field, frame, or expression, and after a moment he lifted his drink and took a deep swallow. "And the gang mecha," he said as he said it back down. "What did they do?"

"Big one laughed," Temoin said, finishing the high grade with a shiver. "Said they'd better charge double for that kind of temperament. Dunno about the others, I...I couldn't really stop staring at that youngling." He shuddered, then glanced at Jazz. "Look, I woulda stopped 'em if I could've, but, with Enforcers everywhere and them with weapons I've never even seen..."

"I know," Jazz said, stopping the rambling. "The details you gave the Enforcer who questioned you about location and time are accurate?"

Temoin nodded readily. He'd risked being charged with the murder of the youngling by telling what he did. He hadn't lied then, he still had no reason too. He wanted those monsters stopped.

Jazz hummed quietly to himself. "Do you know where they went after that?"

"Southeast," he said as he worked to get himself under control with the last of his high grade. "They put the red and yellow ones in the cab of the largest one. One of them laughed about not separating them after what happened last time. Younglings that strong could have walked quite a ways further. They were both in good fuel and repair. They were probably going across the city. Maybe further. Easier to walk younglings otherwise."

"Agreed," Jazz said, and pulled three more cubes of energon out of his subspace, handing them over. "Thank you, that is more helpful than you could know. You have an open tab here for the next joor, and no one will arrest you, the rioting charges have been dropped." He stood. "There are fuel rewards for any more information leading to these mecha, or any of the others whose picture you were shown. Let your cadre know, spread that word."

Temoin's optics spiraled wide, and he nodded quickly. "I will, thank you." He quickly made the extra cubes disappear into his subspace. "Who should be contacted with information?"

"Any Enforcer, tell them it's information for Saxo," Jazz said, and left. ::Love?:: he asked as soon as he was outside, worried by the silence.

::I have no questions, nothing to suggest,:: Prowl responded quickly, a warmth to his tone that Jazz wasn't used to. ::I knew you could interrogate with pain. Now I know you can interrogate with kindness as well. You've grown up so much. I'm so proud of you, love.::

Jazz paused, happily surprised by that answer. ::Well, he wasn't very likely to spread any word along if I'd beaten him up for it,:: he said, trying to sound completely casual despite the fluttering in his spark. ::It sounds like they're alive and together. They're valuable, they won't be killed. We just need to find them.::

::Agreed. I've begun focusing southeastward of the murder site for their likely alt modes. This city does not have nearly the security network that Praxus has. Only the major roadways and wealthy sectors have coverage worth calling such,:: he was both exasperated and making note for if they ever needed to hide again. ::They knew there were no recorders to capture the fight or exactly where they left.:: There was another pause. ::You did well, and you were far kinder than you needed to be. That's the good in your spark, and no trying to say otherwise, my love. You are a good mech.::

Jazz stopped walking, well aware that Prowl could be watching him through one of the cameras lining the street, and likely was, needing that moment of stillness to collect himself back up from the way such a simple assurance left him feeling rended. He'd wondered. He'd had his own unvoiced doubts. ::I love you,:: he said softly, and started walking again.

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At fifty-three joors into the search, Prowl was ready to admit defeat as far as searching via surveillance was concerned. He logged a simple program to keep up with the feeds, look for any of the six known individuals he wanted to find, and ping his comm if any showed up. With a stretch as he stood, privately wincing at how little it took to make him fidgety. He did enjoy being an Enforcer, but it was taking quite a toll on his ability to sit still.

::Saxo,:: the comm ping went to his love.

::Find something?:: came the immediate response.

::That it is time for recharge and I would like to do so with you,:: Prowl responded simply but warmly. ::Do we have quarters already, or should I rent a room?::

::I have a hotel room for us,:: Jazz said. ::Figured you might want to recharge eventually.:: He pinged over an address. ::I'll meet you there?::

::Yes,:: Prowl purred warmly in approval and closed the line to focus on driving through unfamiliar territory. He was well aware of the polite but evident tail he was given to keep him safe and made it easy for the local Enforcer to follow him. Prowl send a ping of thanks when he pulled into the hotel grounds and transformed.

He was immediately tackled by a warm frame that pulled him into a deep kiss. Jazz had been working with street patrols and helping with physical searches in areas that were less protected by surveillance, and Prowl hadn't physically seen his mate yet that orn. Something they were used to, but not in circumstances like this. "How are you?" Jazz asked, touching, teeking, reassuring himself.

"Tired, stiff and missing you," Prowl murmured, gratefully relaxing into the embrace and returning it. "You mentioned a room?"

Jazz nodded. "I kind of splurged," he admitted, taking Prowl's hand and leading him in. "Thought you might enjoy an in-room washrack."

"Very much so," Prowl held back a moan and allowed his mate to guide him into the building. His field wrapped around Jazz warmly, happy and affectionate while Jazz took him through the building and entered a code to their room, only letting the weary slump to his frame show once they were inside and the door closed. "I can't believe we haven't found anything yet," he sighed. "I thought for sure..."

"So did I," Prowl admitted, drawing his mate close and simply holding still for a lingering moment to take comfort in each other. "Primus, if we didn't have the kind of resources we do..."

"We'd have less than nothing," Jazz said, shaking his head, holding him just as tightly. "Come on, I think some hot solvent will help, I'd like to just stand in there with you for a while."

Prowl nodded and nuzzled him before they moved towards the washrack, never losing physical contact as it was turned on and they stepped under the warm spray. Prowl allowed himself to groan, his armor expanding and loosening to allow the solvent deep inside his frame.

"Tense," Jazz murmured, slipping fingers beneath plating, pressing against tension cables. "Didn't you at least stand up and walk around once that whole time, or did you completely forget to take care of yourself?"

"I remembered energon, but not to stretch," Prowl groaned more deeply at the attention. "There was a time not that long ago that I could sit still for orns at a time without more than a cube of mid grade to keep me going."

Jazz was quiet for a moment. "More than orns," he said, working his thumbs up and down the back strut. "But you don't have to, and your frame isn't in that kind of shape anymore. You-need-movement," he said, accenting each word with a hard push.

"I'm remembering that," Prowl felt his engine roar in anticipation of a workout. It was an Enforcer's pursuit engine and his frame was now a match. While he'd never need movement like a true racer, everything about him was about strength, power and action now. It was not a change he had managed to integrate yet. Part of him would always desire the physical stillness of immersion in the data networks and guiding them.

Jazz smiled and revved his engine in response. "Is that how you feel like stretching your frame back out?" he asked, then more seriously, "You feel up to that? Not just for me?"

Prowl moaned at the vibrations. His hands found his mate's and extracted them from under his armor so he could turn around and all but pounce on the mech he loved so much. Lips wet and locked, glossa tangled and Prowl's hands found Jazz's doorwings as he backed Jazz against the washrack wall.

They were both panting through fluffing and contracting their armor by the time their mouths parted enough to speak.

"Not just for you, love," Prowl murmured, faint shivers caressing his armor as he reached one hand down to tease Jazz's spike cover. "Was I the last to touch you, the last to bring you pleasure?"

"No," Jazz admitted. "Radiance-" He moaned softly and pushed into the touch, cover sliding away. "I was too charged up, he helped."

"Good," Prowl's voice pitched lower as he kissed along the line of Jazz's jaw while his fingers played around the spike housing, circling it and teasing the head. "You have no idea how hot it makes me to think of him pleasuring you. That he's good enough for you to turn to when I'm not around."

"He is, he absolutely is," Jazz purred, tilting his helm back for his lover, running his hands over every part of Prowl's frame that he could reach. "For you too, I think."

"He does fill an emptiness I had never been aware of before," Prowl murmured as his fingers and lip plates continued to tease. "It feels _good_ to contemplate a triad."

"He's not going anywhere, and neither am I," Jazz said, spike pressurizing into the knowing fingers, both thrilled and relieved that the stress surrounding them was still something he could help lessen when they were alone. His hand crept down, slid alongside Prowl's, and then dipped between his lover's legs, teasing at his valve cover. It slid open smoothly with a welcoming moan for the touch.

"You can have that, or I can keep my hand where it is while I fill you, pound you into the wall," Prowl's voice was rough with desire.

Jazz groaned deeply. "Promise you'll make it rough," he said, leg sliding up his lover's body, hooking around his hip. He pulled Prowl into a kiss, slow and deep. "And when you're done," he murmured, "I'll lay you down on the berth and rock you until you can't stay online."

"I know what calms you, love," Prowl promised, his spike pressurizing between them smoothly and quickly to rub against the valve platelets and cover itself in lubrication.

"You always have," Jazz breathed, moving his hips, rubbing against the length. He nipped at Prowl's jaw. "D'you wanna see if Radiance wants to listen? Or just us?"

The hard rev Prowl's engine gave was all the answer either needed. Prowl pinged their lover, carefully marking it as non-critical. Jazz grinned and rested his head on Prowl's shoulder, playing his fingers along his mate's backstrut as the comm was accepted, Jazz patched into the call, and the concerned sound of their lover's voice came over it.

::How are things?::

::No progress since the last time we commed, but Pantera finally realized that taking a break is good for him,:: Jazz said.

::That doesn't sound like the Pantera I know. He would never forget to take breaks,:: Radiance said fondly.

::No more often than you,:: Prowl teased back. ::But we actually called hoping you are somewhere private at the moment.:: He dropped his harmonics to a low pitch and hummed, giving no doubt as to what he had in mind. ::I have this lovely Praxian pinned against the washrack wall, rubbing my spike along his valve, his spike in hand, and we were hoping you'd join in, at least verbally.::

There was a startled, silent moment, and then a brief, ::Hang on,:: before the line cut.

Jazz chuckled, nuzzling against Prowl's neck, and after just a short wait, the connection ping came back in.

::Please, _please_ tell me you haven't started,:: Radiance said.

::Not so much as twitched,:: Prowl purred. ::Saxo, what do you think of playing out one of his fantasies? Let him talk us through it, motion by motion.::

::As long as you have enough energy to pound me good and hard when we're done if that isn't what he wants,:: Jazz purred. ::Otherwise yes.::

::I'm Praxian, love. Of course I have the energy for it,:: Prowl teased with a nip to Jazz's neck. ::So, our dear Radiance, what shall we do?::

:It sounds like Saxo needs a pounding,:: Radiance purred. ::And you are certainly the mech for it, Pantera. But you know how much I enjoy slow teasing, working up so slowly that it almost hurts to not give. Will you tease him for me?::

"Yes," Prowl's answer was almost breathy, adding his voice to Jazz's pleasures even as he transmitted over the comm. He slowly rocked his hips, sliding the ridges and lines of his elegantly carved spike through the swollen mass of Jazz's platelets and against the sensitive valve rim. "He's far too young to last like we do, to want to last, but I'll bring him to overload positioned just like this. His leg over my hip, his back against the wall, and my spike just rubbing between his legs. He's such a sight when his pleasure's building."

::That sounds so lovely,:: Radiance said, voice thick with arousal. ::You'll forgive me if I don't hold myself to similar restraint. Want to hear you in your desperation, Saxo, every moan and plea.::

Jazz whined, holding Prowl tightly, rocking his hips along the hardness. "Has to be until I overload?" he asked, already quivering at the thought of how long that was going to take.

"Or until Radiance says I can drive into you," Prowl growled, shifting both his hands to Jazz's hips to hold him still. His mouth found Jazz's neck and nipped at it. "It feels good though, doesn't it? To feel me against you, so intimate but not yet joined."

"Yes," Jazz moaned. "Radiance..."

::Don't worry, I'm going to make him hold out for this one,:: Radiance said to Prowl. ::We'll get him trained, you and I.::

"Frag you both!" Jazz gasped, but his field clearly accepting of what they were planning. His hips twitched uselessly in his lover's hold. "I'm an elite trained agent and this is cruel!"

::But so intimate,:: Radiance said. ::Calm, Saxo, focus on the way it feels to know that your lover, your _mate_, is touching you like this. Something so hidden, and beautiful, hot and flush.::

Jazz inhaled, vented, relaxed, and shivered. "Yes, it's good," he whispered, neck bared. "'Tera..."

"Love you, my beautiful Saxo," Prowl moaned, his lips traveling along the offered cables as his hips continued to slide back and forth, reveling in the tiny tingles of sensation so different from any other intimacy. "Your throat tastes so good, your submission, trusting me to bring you pleasure, trusting Radiance to want nothing but our pleasure, is so _hot_."

"I trust you with my life, both of you," Jazz murmured, shivering from the tiny sensation zaps that the textures of his lover's spike were causing. The charge build from each was barely more than a brush of static, a slow, tantalizing pace. "Faster?" he moaned after just a few kliks.

::A little,:: Radiance agreed, his ventilations already harsh from his charge. ::It'll blow your processors, Saxo.::

"It will," Prowl agreed, shifting to tease his fingers into Jazz's hip joints as he sped up his thrusts and found Jazz's lips for a heated kiss. "You feel amazing, love. Imagine doing this with Radiance behind you, sliding his spike opposite mine. His hands holding you still so mine can play with your doorwings. Your moans are so sweet, intoxicating to us both."

Jazz groaned, finding Prowl's mouth for another clashing kiss. "That would be so hot," he finally managed. "Knowing your spikes were rubbing together between my legs. After I overloaded-" He broke off with a long, low moan, and gathered himself again, fingers clutching Prowl's back. "After I overloaded, you'd pierce me together, stretch me."

"Yes," Prowl moaned into the kiss while Radiance moaned across their comms. "Fill you so tightly, so full of _us_."

::Let you _feel_ what a triad means in the berth,:: Radiance moaned again, a bit of static in his transmission. ::Oh Saxo, we'll make you feel so good for letting me close. Does Pantera feel good, rubbing between your legs? I bet he knows exactly how to move to hit every sensor just right, just enough to stimulate but not enough to make you shake. Not yet.::

"I will, when he lets me," Prowl picked up easily, shifting his stance a fraction to cause a bit more stimulation without speeding up. "I'll make you scream my designation as you overload around nothing, your valve desperate to be filled, and then I'll drive myself inside you and pound you until there's a dent in the wall and you and can't even beg anymore."

"Want that," Jazz gasped. "And it's so good, Radiance, he's so good, teasing just like you want, please, _please_-"

::Not yet,:: Radiance said. ::Not yet, lovely, your mate knows what I want, knows how badly you need to want it first.::

Jazz groaned in a mix of bliss and frustration, still pinned by Prowl's hands. "How long?"

::He'll know,:: Radiance said, and his voice was wavering and tense. ::I've pushed him to that edge, held him there without letting him overload. He's so hot like that, makes you ache to be in him and feel his ecstasy. Pantera,:: he moaned. ::Tell me how he looks, how he feels, going to imagine my spike right next to yours.::

"Optics have gone off, his mouth open, jaw slack, helm back to give me his throat," Prowl moaned, shivering with the pleasure building inside him. "He feels amazing, taut and wanting so much, but not there. Not yet. He's impossibly slick. You'd slide right along, rub against me, sparking a few more joules of charge."

::Primus,:: Radiance moaned. ::Everything charged and touching and grinding. Hot and wet and hard, the trust of a triad and being bared to your lovers as they are bared to you, Saxo, we'll give you that, we'll take you between us.::

Jazz shuddered in Prowl's hold. "Lover, lovers-not enough, more, 'Tera!"

::He won't give into begging,:: Radiance gasped. ::He's doing what I'm telling him, waiting until you're right on the edge, giving you hardly enough to push you over, overload you without satisfying you, preparing your frame for his pleasure.::

"It's worth it, love, it's so worth it," Prowl promised, repeating it as a mantra for his young mate as Jazz clung to him with a low sob of need. Prowl had never denied him like this before, but he could feel how hot it made him, hear how hot it was making Radiance, and that was all that enabled him to stay still without breaking Prowl's hold and driving onto his spike.

The comm went silence but for panting, gasping moans while Radiance listened to his lovers and they listened to him, Prowl moving slowly, carefully, coaxing, until Jazz's frame was trembling with unfilled need and the slowly-built charge that was now making the young mech run burning hot.

::How is he doing?:: Radiance gasped suddenly, sounding like he was moments away from his own tilt over the edge. ::He sounds beautiful.::

"He's ready to break, lover," Prowl moaned, his lips near Jazz's audial. "He's shaking as hard as you are. So full of need, he's being so good for us. You don't have much longer if you want to overload first."

::No,:: came the immediate answer. ::I'll let go when you pierce him, when I hear your cries together. Want to hear you in pleasure together, so much. Let him break.::

Jazz almost sobbed to know that release was so close and forced unfocused, pleasure-bright optics online to look into Prowl's. "_Please._"

Prowl could only moan, his field flaring hot and bright with need as he shifted his grip and sped up significantly. He lifted one hand from Jazz's hips and closed it around the ignored spike between them. "Overload, my mate. Cry out so we can hear you. As soon as you let go, I'll be inside you, driving you to a second and third and fourth peak."

It took just moments, _nothing_ to them, of pressure that was harder than the teasing, brushing strokes, and fingers around his spike, finally bringing some relief to the aching metal, and Jazz screamed, valve clenching desperately for something to grip as it shuddered and spasmed in an overload that was almost _painful_ in its intensity and the emptiness. His hips bucked, grinding against the length, desperate to sheath his lover and hear Radiance's overload.

His next cry was as much relief as bliss when it mixed with Prowl's roar of finally burying himself deep inside his mate. With a growl Prowl shifted his grip to Jazz's hips again and lifted him up, driving into him deep, hard and fast and using gravity to make each thrust deeper. Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl's neck and shoulders and held tightly, face pressed against his frame, sobbing with each push, dizzy and all but lost. "Radiance-" he managed to gasp, reaching for their lover.

::I'm here,:: Radiance moaned. ::Pantera-tell me he's slick, and hot, and how deep-not much longer I can't hold-please, tell me, want to feel it with you.::

"He's beyond slick, lover. He needs to be _filled_ in a way I don't," Prowl panted, his pleasure soaring even as he sought to drive Jazz to a second overload before he let go. "Slick and scalding hot and I'm in _so_ deep. I can feel you in here with me, stretching him further than he'd even been before. Driving me mad as you rub against me inside him. He loves it but I _need_ it. Please, lover, let me hear your cry out. Let me heard you call his designation with me."

::That's all I need,:: Radiance moaned, as Jazz cried out and arched, valve clamping down around Prowl, and at the same moment, a bright rush of static came over the comm line as Radiance shouted. ::I'm there!:: he cried. ::I'm there, I'm right there against you, I'm-I'm-oh, close _close_-I-I-_aah!_::

If there was more, it was drowned out by the sound of Radiance's scream of Jazz's designation, ecstatic and burning across the line, harmonics that pitched it right to Prowl.

It was all the Praxian could take, wanted to take, and one further thrust and he let go, roaring for Saxo, then Radiance as he filled his mate, thrusting into the trembling, overloading valve with each pump of crackling fluid and continuing to thrust deep and hard even when his overload was spent. He moved to Radiance's encouraging moans and purrs and Jazz's cries, keeping his promise to pound his lover into the wall, going until Jazz's final overload dropped him offline, limp in his arms.

::He's offline?:: Radiance asked, knowingly and purring deeply.

::Yes,:: Prowl purred just as deeply as he gently began untangling his frame from Jazz's and shifting so the worst of their mess could be rinsed off by the still-hot solvent. ::That was very enjoyable to have you join us.::

::Intensely enjoyable. It was not what I was expecting when I received your comm request,:: Radiance said. ::I swear you two are going to make me lose my job. Charade was pretty sure I was being murdered for a moment.:: There was a brief hesitation, almost too short to be noticed. ::I'll be out there as soon as I can. And not just because...but you know that.::

::Oh, lover, you should have said you were working. There would have been another call,:: Prowl chided him gently. ::I do know. I wish you were here too, but duty first, love. Duty comes first. I'm not keen on the idea of Mortar out to get me, you know,:: he added a bit teasingly as he turned the blowers on to dry them off. ::How are things going in Praxus?::

::You think I was going to just turn an opportunity like that down?:: Radiance hummed. ::Seriously, what is use of training a Second and a team if they can't take over when my lovers comm me all hot and heavy like that. Plus Mortar's a pushover, he adores you. Praxus is fine, it got a little tense with Enforcers being jumpy that anyone might start riots here as well, but so far, nothing. Busy as Pit busting weapons dealers though,:: he sighed.

::Anyone new to the game?:: Jazz's voice suddenly joined back in, taking his own weight back onto his pedes. ::The gangsters here had some nasty equipment they might be looking to sell before it IDs them somewhere.::

::No, I'm sorry, these are busts we've been tracking for vorns. I will let you know if there's a new merchandise flood anywhere, though.::

Jazz sighed, wrapping his arms around Prowl and nuzzling. ::Thank you.::

::We'll comm you again if there's any news on this end, or when I take another break,:: Prowl cooed, promising another very enjoyable call if Radiance hadn't made it to Polyhex yet. ::Have fun on your weapons busts in the meantime.::

::Fun,:: Radiance repeated dryly, but both his lovers knew fully well how much he enjoyed his function. ::I look forward to whichever comes first, take care of each other.::

::We will,:: they promised in unison, and the comm line cut.

Jazz pulled Prowl into a soft kiss. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's go lay down. Thank you for cleaning up."

Prowl simply hummed his contentment on several levels and collected his mate against his side for the short walk to their berth overlooking the well-lit wealthy district that hadn't been hit. When they were both settled, Prowl circled a tentative finger around Jazz's dataport. It wasn't like they really had anything secretive to talk about, but it was a comfortable habit in stressful times and unfamiliar places.

The warm, grateful flare to Jazz's field told him his lover had been wanting the same thing and the port spiraled open under the touch as Jazz reached to take Prowl's cable in hand, first lifting it to his lips in a soft kiss, and then clicking it into his chest. ~You miss having him here,~ Jazz said softly, without judgment or any kind of ill feeling.

~Yes,~ Prowl acknowledged with a brush of affection and thanks for the acceptance. ~I'd long thought Praxian was just a frame. I know better now. But more than a third ... it's ... I try very hard to never mention the twins around you.~

~I know,~ Jazz said, touching their helms together. ~I appreciate that, more than you can know. I'm so sorry I could never be part of your life with them. And I'm so glad he could be. Can be.~ He sighed. ~I love you, I want you to have everything you need.~

~You provide everything I need, love,~ Prowl insisted. ~You provide most of what I want.~ He x-vented gently and tipped their faces for a tender kiss. ~You're even growing quite fond of the idea of including Radiance in our lives completely. I don't _need_ a third, but he does make me feel more complete to have with us, as part of _us_.~

~You have a coding advantage over me,~ Jazz murmured. ~It's still hard to imagine him meaning as much to me as you do, or to think I ever might someday feel that strongly about another. I _do_ care for him, deeply. I want him in our lives. I've...~ He paused, a flicker of indecision in his field and over their hardline. ~I've been studying code, noble code, and seeing what I can do with what remains of the conformation coding. If my chosen wants a triad, so will I.~

~Oh love. I would much rather this comes naturally. Even if we were not hiding from a powerful mech, it is a _huge_ step, and not to be taken lightly.~ Prowl kissed him again, softly. Despite the words and the truth behind them, there was no hiding that it warmed Prowl that Jazz would even think of it. ~You do not need to love him as much as you love me, so long as you do love him before he is triad. I know it is difficult to contemplate doubling your vorns and more before deciding, but it is _normal_ to take such time. Love, trust me when I tell you that even if he is never allowed closer than he is now, I am grateful for what you allow us.~

Jazz's faint smile was almost wry. ~What could be more natural than using the coding I was kindled to sustain?~ he asked. ~I was meant to bind myself to one mech and want to shape myself to his desires. It...just so happened that I chose that mech myself, instead of allowing one to be chosen for me. But I will leave the coding alone. We have centuries, and a full courtship to learn to love him, and him us.~

~Thank you,~ Prowl felt tension he hadn't notice creep into him dissipate. ~We have both been so badly damaged by coding we did not choose. He has no grasp of just how little freedom either of us have. I don't ... I don't want him disgusted by what he sees when we let him in.~

~You really think he might be?~ Jazz's focus sharpened.

Prowl could only nod for a brief moment. ~Love, you haven't integrated into commoner society. What we are, what we were raised to think is so normal, it horrifies most of them. It's why pre-progs are thought so badly of. They don't want to admit to themselves that their spark is free because of simple luck.~

Jazz was quiet for several kliks, turning that over in his processor while stroking his fingers over Prowl's doorwing. ~It's...little better than slavery, isn't it,~ he finally said. ~Gilded slavery. Nobles believe a pre-prog's spark is of lesser value than a sparked one, which is worth less than a kindled one. They treat pleasurebots and servants as a disposable resource, but their own creations have almost as much directive coding.~ He huffed. ~If we tell him, and he cannot handle it, we still have each other.~

~Yes, and we will move on,~ Prowl said firmly. ~Physically or simply emotionally, we will always have each other. I am testing him, seeing how he reacts to related subjects. I believe he will accept us. I intend to be sure before we are that vulnerable.~

~He is sparked, himself,~ Jazz murmured thoughtfully, and with a gentle nudge, pushed Prowl onto his back, moving over him, stretched out and settled between his legs. ~Albeit into a sparkling frame and with little directive coding. He knows worse things about me than that I am a noble, or you a seneschal, and still cares for me.~ He drew Prowl into a deep kiss that was returned with a warm embrace. ~I have seen him treat broken pleasurebots with compassion.~

~As have I. He is a good mech. I have little doubt. He cares deeply for us already. It is just so much. I am risking _you_ when I tell him. I can not be too careful of that moment.~ Prowl moaned softly into the contact and held his love tightly. ~I simply wish to be sure of his acceptance before I tell him.~

Jazz grinned, nudging his hips forward. ~You could always tell him, delete the memory, and tell him again,~ he said, teasing fondly. ~It will be fine, no matter what happens. My love?~

"Mmm?" Prowl hummed, collecting his attention for the subject shift.

~I have not heard my designation in your voice in far too long,~ Jazz said, one hand running down his lover's frame to rest at his hip. ~Nor have I said yours as often as I would like. Prowl, my beautiful Prowl.~

~I know, my Jazz,~ he allowed the sadness to flow. ~I wish I felt safe enough to use it far more often.~

~Shh, I know,~ Jazz murmured, soothing. ~Do you remember that night, the first night he took me and broke me,~ he pressed soft, loving kisses all over Prowl's face. ~Prowl, you whispered to me, 'Jazz, my Jazz,' ... that moment was the happiest I had ever felt in my life.~

~I remember,~ Prowl shivered. That memory hurt, but that his mate could remember sweetness in those horrible, painful joors soothed it considerably.

~You make me happier than I could have ever dared to hope for, once,~ Jazz said, voice low and soft. Prowl felt the light brush of a charged cable over his interfacing dataport. ~May I? I want to help you into recharge, and hear our designations cried out together.~

~Yes,~ Prowl moaned and spiraled it open without hesitation. ~Just having you in my arms helps my recharge, love. This, this is bliss.~


	30. Hunting Angry

Starcrossed 30: Hunting Angry  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took three more orns of constant searching, but finally, Prowl and Jazz received a comm they had been waiting for.

::Saxo, we have a positive identification to one of those mecha,:: came the commissioner's message. Jazz patched Prowl in immediately.

::Which one?::

The commissioner sent the image file over. ::He was found attempting to leave the city borders, carrying concealed, unlicensed weapons.::

::Has he said anything?:: Jazz asked.

::No, nothing.::

::Good,:: Jazz said. ::No one talks to him but me. Just make sure he doesn't get away and I'll arrange the details.:: He cut the line to the commissioner. ::Pantera?::

::This would be easiest if we interrogate him in one of your rooms, though I'm sure we can make due with an improvisational location. There are wide stretches of this city that no one listens to screaming.::

::A room is more secure,:: Jazz said. ::I'm not leaving any part of this up to chance, _I_ have to control the environment completely for that. Whiplash has access to one beneath Polyhex, I'll have to go through him. How often would you like updates? I can't comm out once I'm in.::

::I want to be there, if it's not too much trouble,:: Prowl's voice was calm and polite, but Jazz could hear the sub harmonics of deep, building rage that was about to turn bitingly cold and very dangerous.

::I don't think it would be,:: Jazz hummed. ::You'd be tagged while you're underground, monitored constantly, and you cannot leave my side, but...I think that would be okay. That's mild compared to the rest of it,:: he added, wincing slightly.

Prowl paused, taking in everything said, unsaid and tone. ::I can hack him,:: he offered quietly.

::Absolutely not,:: Jazz said. ::I know you don't want to, and I _do_ want to lay into someone. Meet me at this precinct,:: he said and pinged the location, already transformed and heading in that direction. Once Prowl had accepted and affirmed, Jazz closed the line, cycled his vents once, and pinged his trainer and commander. ::Whiplash?::

::You've been quite full of yourself since I turned you loose.:: Whiplash's reply was an annoyed rumble, but it didn't contain nearly the venom Jazz had been expecting. ::Let me guess, you want access to the Polyhex facility.::

::Yes, please?:: Jazz said, adding a repentant but hopeful trill to his voice. ::They found a mech who was with the ones that took Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.::

There was a pause, one much longer than needed, and Jazz knew it.

::Granted.:: Whiplash told him when Jazz was half way to the precinct. ::I will see you there.::

Jazz felt a jump of nervous anticipation in his spark. He hadn't gotten the lashing he'd expected, so...hopefully his trainer was in a benevolent mood. ::Aaand...let's say you were to see Pantera there as well, how would that go?::

There was dead silence of the stunned variety for a lingering moment. ::Have you _completely_ lost your tenuous grip on sanity? You _want_ that stuck in the mud, rule-locked _Praxian Enforcer_ to watch a kill interrogation?::

::He is not-!:: Jazz started to protest, then stopped, reconsidered. ::Those are only sides of him. There's another side, a darker side, if he's angered enough, and I promise you, he's angered enough.::

Whiplash gave it a long consideration, making Jazz squirm on the road a bit. ::You know I'll force you to make him _go away_ if he can't take it.::

Jazz steeled his resolve up for a moment. ::I know. But _you_ know what he's lived through and you _should_ know he can handle this.::

::I know what he's survived.:: Whiplash acknowledged slowly. ::I'd rather you didn't lose him.::

::I have no intention of losing him,:: Jazz rumbled back, certainty and pride clear in his voice. ::He can handle this.::

Whiplash's hum was less certain but he didn't argue before closing the line.

Prowl was waiting for him outside and Jazz transformed to greet him, pulling his mate into a tight embrace, the first time he'd seen him in almost two orns. "You're sure you want to watch?" he asked, touching their helms together. Prowl's field meshed with his, fierceness mixed with calm in a combination that made Jazz want to snuggle in closer to that sensation that was only Prowl.

"Yes, I do," Prowl said, and his field backed him up. "I do not wish for you to separate such a large part of your existence from me, and ... I want to hurt him as much as you do."

Jazz stroked his helm. "I'm not worried about you seeing what I do so much as...remembering me do it. I don't want to do that to you."

"I will be fine," Prowl promised, his field backing up how certain he was of this. "Let's get our subject," he rumbled dangerously.

Jazz nodded once and they entered, creating a back-strut straightening tension in the entire room. Every Enforcer in Polyhex had heard about the Imperial agent whose creations had been taken, and none of them wanted to stand in his way. "All I need is the prisoner and a transport," he said, focusing in on the commissioner.

The mech nodded calmly. "Where are we taking him?" he asked, though he looked like he had a good idea.

Jazz grinned and databurst him the location. He took one moment to glance at it, then nodded, having confirmed his suspicions that this prisoner would not be reemerging. When Jazz's kind took one with them, the few times it had happened, they never came back.

"We will accompany," Jazz said. "No other escort is required."

"If you'll follow me, there is a transport out back," the commissioner said, and led them into the building.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Their prisoner strung up the way Jazz preferred them in the interrogation room, Prowl properly scanned and tagged to be with him, and the Polyhex facility set to forward any developments through to them, Jazz and Prowl stood in the small antechamber, watching the video screen showing what was on the other side of the wall.

"Don't show anything once we're in there, even with your doorwings, as much as you can. I doubt he can read wing language, but it's better to be safe. Stand far enough away that he can't teek you," Jazz said.

Prowl nodded, not contesting the instruction. "What are you attempting to avoid him learning from me?"

"It isn't so much what I want to avoid him learning, so much as you accidentally strengthening any resolve he might have. If he sees too much anger, he might realize he's going to die no matter what." Jazz's optics glittered strangely. "That can strengthen resolve not to talk more than anything. He needs to have hope that he's getting out alive. Seeing pleasure can do the same thing, too much too fast and they'll get bitter on you. And no matter what, do not show _any_ discomfort. That's for your own safety."

Jazz felt understanding click as the interrogation rules Prowl had been taught as an Enforcer and those that applied here fell into place.

"I will keep my distance, and show no distress," Prowl promised as he quietly locked his frame and field down. These were protocols that were intended to allow him to defuse domestics and other high-emotion situations without seeming to take a side, but they worked well in any situation where he did not wish to give away his true feelings.

"Then let's go," Jazz purred, truly looking forward to lay hands on someone who had attacked the estate with his mate's creations inside.

The door slid open to his mental command and they walked in, Prowl moving to be against the wall and Jazz approaching the strung-up gangster.

"I have to congratulate you," he said, amiably, as he started his initial stroll. "For being stupid enough to get caught, you were at least bright enough to pick a group with a good action plan, or maybe that was just dumb luck?"

The mech looked a bit confused, glancing between the obvious authority figure that was Prowl to the seeming civilian in charge that was Jazz, then again when it sank in that they were both Praxian and not locals.

"Yes, hello," Jazz said, coming around front again and seeing realization dawn. "You're not with Enforcers, you've stumbled your way into something much, much worse. I'll give you fair warning, I don't have to follow any rules." He watched while that sank in for a moment. "You are, unfortunately, the closest thing I can find linking back to my missing creations. Do you know what kind of mood that puts me in?"

As strange as it was for a gangster, the mech gave a frantic look towards Prowl, optics bright with shock and pleading for the rule-enforcer to enforce some rules.

"They're my creations as well," Prowl answered the obvious question. "This isn't my jurisdiction. It's his."

Horror flickered across the mech's field before he growled, gathered himself and glared at Jazz. "Weren't no Prax littles."

"They didn't look Praxian, took after my frame and I'm all cosmetics," Jazz said. "You weren't in the group that made it down to where they were and took them, which is fairly lucky for you, but you were with the ones who did. I want designations."

"I du know who went down," the mech said. "Don't know who went where."

::I wouldn't mind knowing who was in the kitchen either,:: Prowl commed privately. ::That is very much secondary, however. Nothing will bring him back.::

"Didn't ask who went where, did I," Jazz said. "You're not telling me you didn't know the designations of who went in with you. Where did you go, if you didn't go down?"

"Not giving up everybody cause a couple tweaked your gears," he snapped, pulling at the chains. "What good are littles anyway? No' even you kept them!"

Prowl's engine growled angrily, and Jazz was sure that if this had been a different setting his mate would have assaulted the mech for those words. Behind his back, Jazz gestured for silence, and calm, eying their prisoner as he did. Prowl complied, though Jazz knew it was completely external. Internally, Prowl would still be molten, but so long as he didn't show it everything was fine. "Then tell me who your buyer was. Someone was ready to buy younglings before the raid even started. Who?"

"I don't know. That's not my gig." The prisoner growled in frustration, but his optics, his fear, were firmly locked on Prowl. "I'm just a guard."

Jazz let him keep that fear on Prowl for a few more moments, before patting the mech's cheek with a dagger pulled smoothly from his subspace. As soon as he had the startled, alarmed attention directed back at him, he shrugged. "Well, it was worth a shot," he said, tracing the edge along the jawline. "At least you know what I want. Designations, ranks, everything you know about your companions, and anything about your buyer. Got that?"

"You expect me to give up my entire gang so you can destroy them all trying to find one or two that _might_ know what happened," he growled, though it wasn't a very intimidating sound. "No."

"Understood. D'you know who was in the kitchen?" Jazz asked, almost off-handedly, pleased to note than Prowl really had calmed down. His ability to display self-control was admirable, but Jazz knew him well enough to know when he was holding too much in.

The thug had to work to follow the shifting topic and even more to work out the glyphs he'd never heard before.

::Love, I'm not sure he would know a kitchen if he was in it. But they'd be the group that had the most confections, candies and prepared energon. Those that came back with just cubes were probably in storage.::

"Oooobviously not," Jazz drawled, smirking, acknowledging his mate with a ping. "I'll make it simpler. Who came back with the ritziest fuel? Confections, cakes, candies, flavored energon?"

"Babble..." he snapped his mouth shut against the _want_ for more of that incredible stuff and the realization he'd already given up a designation.

"That's a start," Jazz said brightly. "Let me know if you think of more. Shall we get started, then?"

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

As he followed Whiplash into the observation area, Radiance had to stop and take a moment to collect himself when he saw what was inside. He knew what interrogators did, he even had a few on his own team who worked on Enforcer prisoners. He knew what Saxo was, and did.

But it was something else to _see_ it in full, living color, live, right in front of him.

Jazz was casually picking through an energon-coated mess that had once been the neck of the mech that was hanging from the ceiling. When the vocalizer was uncovered, he straightened and stepped back, head tilted almost curiously.

"I think I've gotten everything I can out of him," he commented, and turned to grin at his mate. "Which means now I can stop pretending and have some real fun."

"_Pantera_ is in there?" Radiance gasped, seeing the Enforcer for the first time from where he was leaning, perfectly still, against the wall.

"He wants to be there," Whiplash didn't hide the grumble, or how his harmonics shifted as he took in that the frame wasn't still out of numbness or shock, but because he was relaxed. "First time too." He cocked his helm and studied the Enforcer. "Whatever Pit he came from hardened him more than I expected."

The victim gave a strangled sounding moan that made Jazz hum before he walked to Prowl and drew him into a tender kiss that quickly drew heated as Jazz was pulled against his mate. "Which means you can stop pretending, too, love," he murmured when Prowl finally let him go. "For you, because he helped the ones who took your creations."

Prowl's engine roared to life and he stalked forward, every inch the commanding figure and reveling in the vindictive fire consuming him as he walked around the mangled form, then looked at his mate. "You know, of all the times I've seen this from your perspective, I've never actually been here when you killed." Prowl rumbled and drew Jazz into another hungry kiss. "Make him _hurt_, love. Get yourself so worked up you're burning, then show me how good it is for you to end it the way you like."

Whiplash raised an optic ridge and considered the scene even more seriously. "Pantera is more a match for Saxo than he lets on."

"I did try to snag him for you," Radiance said, still teeking uneasy by what he was watching, but gradually less and less so. In the next moment the mech was screaming so loud that anything Radiance might have added would have been drowned out, before the volume lowered suddenly, no doubt by the matte black mech next to him. "There was nothing to hook him with."

"He's an odd one," Whiplash acknowledged. "Doesn't want money, power, not even to stretch his capabilities. He has a hook, and it has him good, but it's not a hook that's of much use to reel him in quickly. Why _does_ a mech like that want to be a beat cop?"

Radiance's smile when he turned his gaze to Prowl was warm. "Because he wants to be." He glanced at Whiplash, smirked. "Not even you have something to offer someone who just wants to be an honest, working, helpful part of society."

"True," Whiplash huffed, watching as his agent began to play with his toy, destroying it a bit at a time, but really watching his agent's mate and how the Enforcer responded to the screams, energon and thrashing that turned Jazz on so effectively. "My world exists outside theirs. He's got the ball bearings for this, though. How much have they told you?"

"Little," Radiance said carefully. "They know each other's stories, they've been hurt, and they're hiding, and there is little truth to their official records. But as for what _is_ true..." He glanced at the Ops mech. "I learned something, once, Pantera said too much, he asked me to delete it."

"And you did," Whiplash quirked his mouth up in a knowing grin. "You big softie. I'll keep their real designations out of your range then."

Radiance huffed. "Of course I did. Just because you lack the capacity for something like love or compassion doesn't mean everyone else does."

"I have the protocols for both," Whiplash chuckled. "They're just of lower priority than other things, like intel. Any hint of this in their berth?" he nodded towards the viewscreen where Jazz's spike was rubbing against the half dead mech and Prowl was rubbing his spike cover, watching with hungry optics.

"Not much," Radiance said, but he tilted his head back and gestured with his hand at his neck. "Saxo gets me by the neck when he's in a mood. Not anything else. But... they pretty much just need to look at each other to overload, this doesn't surprise me. Saxo comes off these pretty hot and Pantera likes whatever turns Saxo on." He winced at the location of Jazz's claws.

Whiplash laughed, bright with good humor. "They are hot on each other. If I'm ever that bad about someone, you have permission to shoot me." He grinned at Radiance, his visor actually flashing slightly despite the matte finish. "You're almost as bad on them, I think. Just waiting your time out until you can admit it?"

"I already have the courting forms completed," Radiance said, shaking his head, almost not believing what he was telling this mech. He gave a self-deprecating groan. "So yeah, I guess I am."

"More than forty vorns in advance?" Whiplash didn't hide his surprise. "Well, you _do_ have it bad. I have to admit, I thought all that fluffiness when you were playing creator and following Pantera around like a turbo-puppy while you were out here was rather cute."

"Oh, for Primus-you know what, no, I am not surprised you were watching that," Radiance said. "And I was _not_ following him around like a turbo-puppy."

"True, some of the time you were doing a good game of fetch or guard," Whiplash teased him. "It was adorable, Radiance. Made you very believable as their creator with him."

Radiance huffed again and rolled his optics. "Why am I here?"

"Honestly?" Whiplash glanced sideways at him. "I was more than half expecting Pantera to need someone to pull him back together. Better to have you here than joors away if a break happens. You know as well as I do how unstable Saxo is without him."

Radiance's visor flickered, then he grinned. "Look at you with the spark! I honestly had my doubts," he turned back towards the viewscreen with a smug smirk on his lips.

"Has nothing to do with a spark. It's protecting my assets," Whiplash huffed, but the grin he had took all the fight out of the words as they fell silent and watched Jazz rip the victim's chest plates the rest of the way off, only stopping when Prowl stepped up behind him and caressed the primary interface port with a kiss to Jazz's neck.

Jazz ground up against his lover, purring, tilting his head back as the port spiraled open. "You wanna feel this? This is what I'll do to _him_."

Prowl plugged in with an intense rush of arousal that left them both dizzy to feel how worked up the other was. ~I want ... I want to feel _this_.~ He offered an image, something snagged from Vortex's archive, of one of their parties where a mech had a spike thrust into his spark, overload after overload, until he expired. ~Feel your spike in a living spark just before it leaves its frame.~

Jazz groaned, lowering the barely-living mech down with a thought, gripping the spark chamber in powerful combat claws and cracking it open. ~He would have had me do this to you,~ he said. ~Instead we'll do this to him. Just like this,~ he gasped, pushing forward, the intense surge of energy rushing up through his spike and into their joined frames.

Prowl moaned and shuddered hard against Jazz's back, his lust soaring at the words. ~Oh yes. Just like this. His last act to give us pleasure. Oh _Primus_ that feels amazing.~

~It's a rush,~ Jazz agreed, panting and shaking in Prowl's hold as he rocked, both against his lover and into the swirling, flaring spark. ~This one's weak, he never had a strong will, it won't take long,~ he managed, hands coming up to grip Prowl's helm, head thrown back onto his lover's shoulder.

~Neither will we,~ Prowl gasped, his spike trapped between them as he rubbed along Jazz's back while they rocked into the fading spark. ~Oh, Jazz, feels so good, being with you for what works you up so much.~

~Prowl,~ Jazz moaned. ~Love that you can still love me like this. That shiver, the way the spark turns-it'll-it'll-~ The rest of the description was lost as the light spiraled inward on itself, collapsing from the center, before the full energy rushed out in a sudden, intense escape from the broken frame, leaving both of them screaming as Jazz overloaded into the brilliantly bright center and Prowl against his mate's back.

~Jazz, my beautiful Jazz,~ Prowl moaned as they struggled to keep from collapsing on the graying and cooling frame. ~Love all of you. Always have. Always will. Just want to be part of everything you let me.~

Jazz swayed, managed a step back for both of them, and turned, grabbing his mate in a kiss. ~You are my everything,~ he said, as they stumbled towards the wall, shaking and holding each other.

In the observation room, Radiance was frozen and staring. "He just..."

"Got off by spiking a guttering spark," Whiplash said. "I have to admit, it's an extremely rare kink, and I've never seen it used by a pair like that. Whoever taught him that is a really, _really_ sick mecha."

Radiance was still frozen in shock when the door opened for Jazz to walk out of the interrogation room with Prowl behind them, each one of them focusing in on one of their observers. Prowl immediately looked to the one he didn't know that presented the greater threat, Jazz to the one he never expected to see this deep in a base, much less in an observation room. No one missed how Prowl subtly shifted to place himself between the unknown and his stunned mate despite his lack of status in this world and lifted his doorwings in a general warning display.

"You do give an amazing show together," Whiplash was the first to find his voice, greeting the energon smeared pair cheerfully, then focused on Prowl. "I'm Whiplash, his mentor in Ops."

A brush of fields to confirm this with Jazz and Prowl settled his wings, but still kept himself between Jazz and the potential threat.

"You've got a loyal one, Saxo," Whiplash chuckled, but the sub harmonics were of approval and even being impressed. "I'd tell you to reward, indulge and protect him, but I know you do."

Jazz finally found his voice and the rest of his frame, and took his optics off Radiance to shoot an accusing look at his trainer as he stepped forward enough to put his hands on Prowl, wanting the steady, calm strength that was his mate. "You didn't...warn me you were bringing him."

"It shouldn't have made a difference," Whiplash shrugged with a ripple of matte black armor. "He was here in case Pantera needed to be pulled together."

"I'm stronger than that," Prowl said flatly.

"Stronger, and far more twisted," Whiplash grinned with blatant approval. "Do the Enforcers know what they have in their ranks?"

Radiance found himself, last of the four, and shifted to be in front of Prowl. "They have a strong, devoted, fair-minded mech who would do anything for someone he loves," he said, then glanced back at Prowl with a faint smile. "By the way, hello."

A flicker of warmth and greeting came from Prowl's field, the tight-focused touch of one who was running on domestic conflict protocols. The mech's attention was locked on Whiplash, however.

"Relax, it's not like anything that happens on these levels even exists," Whiplash gave a smile to the triad, and this was a triad, recorded, honed or otherwise. "But I don't think you'll be joining your mate in any more interrogations once this little event is dealt with."

Prowl simply nodded. It wasn't like he wanted to be here regularly no matter how hot it made Jazz run. He wasn't comfortable with it, with the rules that governed this place. They weren't his.

"Radiance, Pantera, go with Fairsong to the washrack and clean up," Whiplash ordered with a motion towards the door that opened to reveal a pastel blue, white and yellow femme. "I'll send Saxo along when we finish talking."

Radiance nodded, well-used to being escorted anywhere when he was below ground, and turned to leave, then paused when he was next to Jazz, leaning in to take a brief kiss. "And hello to you too," he said, smiling at him.

Jazz didn't hide his startled flicker, or the relief that came after it. Radiance brushed his field warmly, then slipped his hand into Prowl's and gestured with his head towards the door. Prowl made no effort to resist, far too accustomed to obeying orders. His field began to relax as protocols stood down and he followed Radiance and their guide and watcher.

As soon as the door closed after their exit, Jazz faced his trainer, wings lowered, properly contrite before the only mech who had any kind of control over him beyond his mate.

"You are making my orn _difficult_, Jazz," Whiplash said flatly, flaring at his most junior agent. "Even I have to answer to the Prime if enough noise is made about my missions. You're under the radar for now, but the questions are going to come about why this is worthy of Imperial resources and there is no valid answer for it."

"The only Imperial resources I've used are myself, the room, and the cleanup it takes for one frame," Jazz said, steady. "If those are too much to find younglings taken into an illegal market-"

"You miss the point, agent," Whiplash shook his helm. "You are making a _very_ public display of this mission. Something we take some pains not to do for many reasons, but primarily one in a botnapping case. You've dramatically increased the odds of your creations' demise by increasing how easy it is for them to find out just what is on their trail. You have also used far more recourses than you think. Enforcers were pulled from other cases, called in to work extra shifts for your net, and while I doubt any of them would object to it given the younglings involved, the city is less pleased. It sees younglings go missing every decaorn. These two are no more valuable to it, or anyone important to the public than the last two."

Jazz winced through his field, but his frame held steady. "They are more valuable to Prowl, and their _best_ chance is to have their sire as involved as possible with all available information open to him. What I did also increases their chances of being found alive, as well as being killed, and both are preferable to the kind of market I suspect they will land in otherwise. I would have preferred keeping my own profile invisible, but they weren't going to let Prowl in otherwise." He paused, and bowed his head. "I'm sorry what I did created complications for you. I'm not sorry I acted to help my mate."

A deeply frustrated vent escaped Whiplash. "So I heard." He regarded his agent steadily. "If he'd been extended the professional courtesy he was no doubt expecting, you would have kept quiet?"

Jazz nodded once. "I was quiet until another Enforcer told him he wasn't allowed to help search for his own creations, dead or alive."

Whiplash shook his helm. "And there's no way you can miss _that_ mech being an Enforcer. If this hunt lasts long, I'm going to insist on an actual field agent being involved to smooth over the rookie mistakes. You weren't trained for this work."

"I'll back out from public view, except for interrogating anyone else they find. They respect Prowl enough now to let him in, now that they've seen him working," Jazz said, a faint, proud smile on his face. "And I'll stop scaring the locals."

"Do that," Whiplash huffed, privately annoyed at how easily Jazz could defuse anger directed at him. "Go clean up and take your mates somewhere else. I expect Radiance is going to need some contact after this."

Jazz nodded, started to leave, then paused. "You really brought him just in case Prowl needed him?"

"Mostly," Whiplash shrugged. "Wanted to make sure he could handle your function too, before you're any more triad than you already are."

"Thought so," Jazz said with a roll of his optics. "You couldn't have picked anything a bit milder? Eased him in?"

"He has interrogators on his team," Whiplash said. "He knows what you do. Well, maybe not the whole spark-spike overload bit, but it's not like I was expecting him to see anything that surprising. Prowl was the real surprise, not you."

Jazz smiled, optics brightening just at hear his mate's designation spoken out loud. "Didn't think he had that in him, did you," he said, pleased to have been able to surprise his mentor.

"No, I didn't," Whiplash admitted with a scowl. "Now shoo, you. Your mates are expecting you."

Jazz grinned at his trainer and commander, gave a mock-salute, and bowed his way out, heading straight for the tracker that had been fixed to Prowl for the duration of his time underground, finding him with Radiance in a washrack three levels up. He greeted his mate with a warm kiss. "Your comms will work from this level, have you forwarded those designations to the commissioner?"

"Just did," Prowl rumbled and pulled Jazz closer, then stepped back under the spray to begin rinsing him off with another kiss. "He obviously wasn't _too_ angry with you."

Jazz nuzzled him, then reached out to Radiance and pulled the dark Enforcer in for his own greeting before turning back to Prowl. "He wasn't exactly pleased, either, but I do a great forgive-me grin. I'm pulling out except for further interrogation, though."

"Pantera's caught me up on what you know and it sounds like my arrival was at the right time," Radiance welcomed the settling influence of the pair's fields when they were together and went to work getting Jazz cleaned off. "It's been a while, but until I get the notice that I'm no longer on special assignment I'm here and I _have_ had investigative training and experience. And I'm much more accustomed to working with other precincts and cities as."

Jazz hummed, leaning into Radiance's hands. "Good, because I'm starting to think they got out of Polyhex before we even got here. That glitch insisted he didn't see any of his fellows after they split inside the estate and I believe him. They're all going on a planetwide wanted list, but it'll have to be Enforcer level." He sighed, tilting his head back against Radiance's shoulder. "I'm sorry you saw that without knowing more about us. I would have preferred it the other way around."

Radiance was quiet for a moment. "Whiplash said someone must have taught you that. You mentioned a 'him.' Sideswipe's spark sire?" he guessed, watching Prowl carefully.

"Yes," Prowl answered, tense but not in the dangerous way. His focus was on Jazz.

Jazz smiled reassuringly at his mate for a moment, before flaring his field to mix with Radiance's while Prowl held him, a strong, steady, reassuring presence that had long been the one constant in Jazz's existence. "That was his favorite way to finish a toy. After his newspark took...he told me he wanted to do the same to it. I..." He hesitated, and Radiance nuzzled against his neck. "I learned how to enjoy what he enjoyed. I'm glad you can still touch me after seeing that," he admitted quietly.

"I admit I could have gone my entire existence without _seeing_ that," Radiance murmured, slowly stroking his hands along Jazz's frame. "But I know you both well enough to be confident that you won't bring the illegal kinks out of this place. That's all I expect."

"Until we have _him_, he's the exception," Jazz said.

"I can look the other way for _him_," Radiance assured them both. Any mecha that took enough enjoyment in snuff to be so creative about it and teach a mechling to do the same was a mecha that was well worth looking the other way for to ensure he never saw the inside of a courtroom. He might not like that truth, but he understood politics enough to believe it was a necessary evil in a broken world.

Jazz nodded with that assurance, then wrapped his arms around Prowl and drew their frames tight. "I'm so sorry, love, I hoped that one would know more."

"We do our best with what we have," Prowl said gently, holding Jazz to comfort him while Radiance continued to stroke Jazz's frame, then moved on to soothing touches to his doorwings.

Jazz hummed in gratitude. "We are nowhere near done with this," he promised his mate, as Radiance rumbled his agreement behind them.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz shook the mess of energon, wires, and fiber-optics from his hand after pulling his fingers from the holes where the graying mech's optics had once been, and pulled his other hand, gripping an energon dagger, from the now-empty spark chamber. He stepped back, rolled his head, and tried to stretch some of the tension from his frame as he walked, heading up the several levels needed in order to comm his mate without routing through the facility comm network.

He was in the Kalis facility, one of the gangsters being located there after an ID ping on a speeder turned up a matching designation. This one had been among the group that had taken the younglings from the estate and had witnessed the killing of the third.

::Pantera,:: he commed, lifting his arms over his head to stretch his shoulders, getting sideways looks from the few mecha he passed by, not for the mess he was covered in but for being an unfamiliar face in their part of this realm.

::Anything useful?:: Prowl couldn't hold back the hope that was bordering on desperate. Eight orns they'd been on the hunt and there were already some polite calls about getting back to their jobs. And more concerned, private ones from many of the same mecha asking if there was anything but time they could offer.

::Location of the buyer as of six orns ago. Simfur. Did a blind swap with them for the credits, never saw his face or knew a designation. He would have been happy to give more if he had it, too, they tried to double the price for the temperament and quality and got less than the original price for their trouble.:: Jazz turned the washrack on. ::I'll be above as soon as I'm decent and we'll get to Simfur.::

::Meet up at the hotel, whoever's there first packs up?:: Prowl suggested. ::Windcrest can meet us in the shuttle bay.::

Jazz nodded and sent an affirmative ping. ::Is Radiance with you?::

::I'll comm him,:: Prowl promised. ::Clean up, and we'll see you soon.::

Jazz agreed and washed as quickly as he could, but he it still took him longer than he liked to get the grime off his frame, and he didn't even fully detail between the plating. He only did enough to be presentable in public and not get pulled over as a potential murderer. When he was finally back to the hotel, Prowl and Radiance were already there, everything packed and ready, just waiting until they could go meet their shuttle.

His lovers were sitting together on the berth, talking softly, though the moment Jazz walked in Prowl stood to greet him. Jazz quickly pulled Prowl into a kiss that was returned fiercely with a strong embrace, then touched their helms together. "How are you?"

"Well enough," Prowl murmured. "There's time to settle you and get you cleaned up before he gets here. It's a long flight from Iacon."

"I'm fine," Jazz said, though the lingering arousal in his field was clear enough. "If you're working on something we should keep doing that."

"Just reviewing things we already know," Prowl assured him, guiding Jazz towards the washrack in the room. "Just me, or both?" he asked softly enough that only Jazz heard him.

Jazz's gaze flickered over his mate's shoulder towards Radiance, who was watching from his seat on the berth, waiting with an anxious tilt to his doorwings to be invited before he joined the pair. He lifted his hand, gesturing him over, knowing the peace his mate took in the three of them being together. "Both of you," he murmured, nuzzling.

Prowl purred and flicked a doorwing in invitation before he got Jazz in the washrack. "So, what do you think of actually playing out that scene we talked through on our first break?"

Jazz's engines gave a hard rev. "I don't think we have the time or myself the patience be teased up, but if you wanna skip that part, I'd be agreeable," Jazz said as he was backed up into the solvent.

Radiance appeared behind Prowl, pressing against his back and nipping at his neck while running hands down to his hips, then around front. "You want to take him with me?"

"Or for both of you to take me," Prowl's entire frame shivered at the prospect. "Yes. Maybe not the teasing, but to feel your spike rub against mine inside him," he could only moan at the intensity of the mental image it conjured.

Radiance's engines rumbled deeply and he met Jazz's optics over Prowl's shoulder, exchanging a smile of agreement with him before he dipped his head back down to nip up along their lover's neck, jaw, and then to his audial. "When we take him together, we're going to take our time, and he's going to be begging for us. We're going to tease him until he explodes. But _you_..." He and Jazz pressed hips flush against Prowl. "We'll fill you, make you forget everything while we hold you."

"Please," Prowl moaned, leaning into Radiance with the mixture of excitement and passive acceptance that rarely came to those who didn't have a submissive spark.

Jazz hummed and leaned in for a deep kiss, his hands sliding down to join Radiance's on Prowl's pelvis, teasing and stroking around his spike cover while the black fingers dipped down to his valve. "I'm going to swallow you first," he murmured against Prowl's mouth. "I know how much you like my lips around your spike, looking down and seeing me on my knees for you."

Prowl nearly choked, both panels snapping open. One arm reached back, over his shoulder, to grip at Radiance's back. The other found Jazz's neck and held the kiss until they were all trembling from the raw, unfiltered lust pouring off Prowl.

"Lover, oh lover," Radiance moaned, shuddering, spike extended and pressed against Prowl's aft. He teased at Prowl's valve, swirling his fingers through the platelets, while Jazz rubbed the spike that had pressurized into his fingers. "Suck him," he commanded Jazz, voice hoarse. "He wants you so badly."

"I can feel it," Jazz purred, and slid down to his knees, running a long, hot lick up the underside of his lover's spike, flicking his glossa off the tip. "He's always wanted me, haven't you, my love."

"Yes," Prowl keened at the physical sensations and spread his legs further apart, leaning forward a bit to cant his hips and give Radiance better access. As amazing as it felt, it was really the way being _between_ two lovers made his spark swell that made this so good for him. He could feel it pouring off Radiance as well, the _rightness_ of a triad forming, the way the three of them moved so easily together, no one giving more than they got. Every indulgence given to one member was matched with an indulgence to the others. "Knew as soon as I saw you I was in trouble, that I'd do anything for you."

Jazz hummed with honest joy at those memories, circling his lips around the head and pushing down, using the sound to vibrate into Prowl through the sensor-laden metal. He slid one hand up the inside of Prowl's thigh and met Radiance's fingers with his own, slipping them into the slick opening while the dark mech clicked the magnet systems in his palm to life, rubbing over quivering platelets as his own fingers pushed in alongside Jazz's.

"A taste, lover," Radiance purred to him. "Both of us in you, but we'll give you so much more than this."

Prowl could only arch back, his entire frame already quivering and mouth open against the bliss. His valve spasmed, cycling tightly around the fingers inside him with the entirety of his internal systems trying to assist the motion, even though they weren't part of his valve structure. It was like this every time one of them was between the other two, each time the intensity increased for Prowl as his triad protocols etched themselves further into his norm.

He _wanted_.

Prowl wanted to be lost in this bliss of being in the middle of a triad more than he could have imagined. The explicit approval of his love for the lover they'd brought in made his spark soar. Oh, to be filled with them both, to be touched and pleasured by them both at once, it was so much more than Prowl ever imagined interfacing to be.

He adored and reveled in them both for this gift of being triad.

Radiance felt it, felt all of it through Prowl's field and in the mirrored song in his own spark and the ancient coding bliss in his processors that was working just as hard as Prowl's were to form this union for all of them. Coding that he was realizing had picked these two for him even before he'd realized it, pushing him towards them over and over until he'd looked up one orn and found himself completely captivated and owned. He wanted as much as Prowl, as much as he dared to hope Jazz did, wanted to pleasure and be pleasured.

"Good, this is perfect, sink into it, into _us_," he managed. "The bliss of triad." His voice shook on the last word, one he hadn't dared to hope for for so long. He looked down at Jazz over Prowl's shoulder, the slow bobbing of his head along Prowl's valve while he crooked his fingers deeper. "Look at him, look at the joy he takes out of pleasuring you with me."

"He loves to," Prowl shuddered, completely lost to the intensity as his frame, processors and spark all agreed that this was _perfect_. "I can feel how much he loves it, just as much as I love pleasuring him. Sooo goood..." he keened and trembled, trying not to overload, trying to draw this perfection out. He wanted them inside him, fully and completely inside him, frame, spark and all, so badly it ached.

He could feel Jazz's full-framed rumble of arousal and the sound of his lover's spike cover sliding away. The warmth around his own spike tightened for a moment and then moved away while Jazz twined his fingers around Radiance's, pushing together. "Ready?" he purred, head tilted up, and behind him Radiance hummed in deep, eager excitement. Without another word exchanged Prowl not only relaxed into Radiance's steady, strong grip, but moved with Jazz when his love stood and brought one of Prowl's legs up with him. The other set more firmly, angled for balance, then slid back to twine with Radiance's leg when Prowl was lifted and positioned so both his lovers could penetrate him.

"Yes," Prowl whispered, even more awed at how _right_ this felt than how good it felt already.

Jazz pressed a searing kiss to his mouth. "I love you," he moaned, lining his spike up and pushing in, then held there as Radiance rubbed the tip of his own against their joined frames and ran his magnetized palm over Prowl's aft.

"Relax," Radiance breathed. "Relax and open and _feel_." He dipped and lifted his hips, pushing in alongside Jazz, moving slowly into the impossibly tight channel. "_Oh_," he gasped, shuddering.

Prowl simply keened, his limbs gripping his lovers blindly. It hurt, that much stretch. Nothing prepared a mech for it but experience, and Prowl simply didn't have that. But he relaxed, he trusted his lovers to bear his weight and gave himself over to feeling what it meant to truly be between two lovers at once, to be the focus of his triad. The stretch hurt as he adjusted, but it also felt amazingly good.

This was what his spark had always called for, what was coded into him from before his sparkline was grounded, and there was nothing that could make it be anything other than pure bliss.

Jazz moaned as Radiance finally seated himself and they held together, trembling, letting Prowl's frame learn to accommodate, until he couldn't stand the stillness anymore and pulled out, barely a fraction of the entire length, and all three of them gasped together. Radiance shifted his hips out in response, and they found a slow, uneven rhythm of pushing and pulling, sliding alongside each other, their arms around Prowl, holding, supporting, caressing every span of his frame that they could reach.

The pure _rightness_ of this thrumming through Prowl and Radiance enveloped Jazz, fueling his pleasure. He knew this perfection, this fulfillment of being true to your very core coding, and he was willing to do anything to give this to Prowl. He couldn't begin to count his blessings that what his love wanted so much was something, someone, that felt so good to him as well. Someone who had seen him at almost his darkest, and still greeted him with a kiss. Someone Jazz was sure he had learned how to love in that moment.

A sudden keening shudder and wordless garble were all the warning Prowl could offer beyond his field and the riot of energy dancing through his frame before he found himself right on the edge of overload. One more thrust by Jazz and he toppled over, screaming in bliss and seizing between his lovers. His valve tightened, molding to every bit of those wonderful spikes inside him, fluttering and undulating as the charge was fed to them though the lubricant and contact.

Radiance cried out and lost the hold he had on his control, as overcome as Prowl was by this bliss and the overwhelming joy of being accepted and wanted-_desired_-by this pair he'd all but stumbled over, never expecting what he'd been about to fall into, and when he felt Jazz's overload triggered by his own and the feel of another's transfluid mixing with his own, slicking their spikes, he _sobbed_.

"_Pantera_," Jazz cried, face against Prowl's shoulder, biting as he shuddered, fingers digging into his frame. "_Radiance!_"

Radiance _shook_, shouting as the running charge of three frames washed back through to him in a moment of white-out ecstasy before it fed back into Prowl from both sides and drove him to a second peak almost as intense as the first.

Eventually the trembling mecha sank to their knees, two still supporting the third, until they leaned inward, using Prowl's frame to brace their exhausted ones.

"Saxo, Radiance," Prowl slurred, only partially coherent and oblivious to everything but the utter, perfect, contentment that was being with his triad. "Love you both." Forbidden words, too-soon words, but the _right_ words. "So perfect. So very perfect."

Radiance actually gasped at the force those words had on his spark, his grip around Prowl tightening almost painfully as he looked with some shock into Jazz's optics. The younger mech looked warmly back, then shifted his gaze to Prowl briefly, instructing.

Radiance took Prowl's helm in his hands and leaned forward, tilting around to take Prowl's mouth in a desperate kiss. "I love you too," he managed. "I've-I've loved you, both of you, I know it's fast and I shouldn't even say so yet, but..."

A soft, brushing kiss from Jazz caused him to trail off and turn his head, only to be pulled into a deeper one. "We love you too," Jazz said, touching helm to helm. "We have. Once this is all over and settled, we'll do this better, properly."

"Explain it all?" Prowl looked at his mate blearily, only slowly regaining his full awareness as their spikes slid from his valve and he settled more on his own forelegs. "Legal ... not for vorns, but he can be ours?" The last bit came out as more plea than question.

"I think he has been ours, my love," Jazz murmured, drawing Prowl in, pressing their mouths together. "I know he wants to be, and I know you want him, and..." Optics flickered over to the golden visor set in the dark face. His voice lowered, his engines purred. "I want him too."

Prowl's couldn't have overstated how much that that mattered to him as he claimed another kiss, his frame trembling and doorwings all but vibrating when he turned to claim the same kiss from Radiance. "Soon, we are triad. In our home," he glanced at Jazz, who nodded. "In our home it will be _our_ home."

Jazz nipped at Prowl's neck as Radiance drew into another searing embrace. "You bought it for three," he murmured. "To make a home for three."

Prowl simply nodded. "It was on hope."

Jazz smiled and looked to Radiance, hesitated, then put a finger under the dark mech's chin and drew him in. "Thank you, for everything you've done for him. Don't think I don't see the way he is when he comes home from Polyhex, don't think I didn't see the change when you went with him. How could I not love someone who can lift so much from him?"

"I do all I can for those I love," Radiance answered the only way he could, but warmed at the way Prowl leaned into him and wrapped his field around them in an embrace. "It is what triads do. We support each other in any way we can."

"We wanted to tell you everything before it got this far," Prowl murmured, nuzzling into Jazz. "We will soon," he promised. "We should get clean, though. Windcrest will be here soon."

Jazz nodded, and sighed as the bliss faded away in the wake of the reality they were dealing with. "Come on," he said, and he and Radiance helped pull their mate to his pedes. "Hope that helped, it might be the last for a while, this could get worse from here out."

"Thank you," Prowl kissed Jazz, then turned to kiss Radiance. "Both of you."

It was the last word spoken as the three got down to the business of cleaning up, all with an efficiency they had learned in different ways, but methods that meshed well and created an easy, smooth flow between them.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It only took Jazz three orns to realize that their quarry had already escaped them, and without leaving a trail. Simfur was a neutral location for a buyer who was already good enough to not give his hunters a designation or ever let him see his frame. It was a dummy location, one that could be safely given up without threatening him.

When consulted privately, Radiance agreed. Which left them with the unpleasant task of breaking the news to Prowl, who was not anywhere near ready to admit defeat.

"How do we tell him?" Jazz asked, hand to his forehelm, leaning against the outside wall of their hotel.

"Coax him somewhere reasonably safe, probably the room," Radiance glanced up towards their room here in Simfur. "Relax him." He hesitated here. "Not to challenge your ways, but 'facing might not be the best way this time. Hardline? Let him see for himself why we're saying the active hunt is over."

Jazz held both hands up over his face and slid down. "'Face him before telling him his creations are lost into a market that will probably destroy them," he muttered, shaking his head. "No." His vents shuddered at the thought of how much pain he was going to have to cause his mate. "Hardline is best. Hardline is...it's safety, for us. Anywhere with a locked door. Primus," he whispered, then looked up at his lover, silently pleading for answer that Radiance didn't have.

Instead of words, Radiance gave the only thing he could. He stepped over, knelt, and gathered Jazz into his arms. He made no attempt to tell him everything would be alright, no attempt to make the situation look any better than it was. He just held, and soothed, and gently stroked doorwings with one hand while offering his field and his frame for Jazz to take comfort from.

They sat there huddled in silence for a while, and slowly a thought crossed Radiance's processor and he nuzzled Jazz's chevron. "You said hardline is safety. We can go to the room, hardline. If it could help you settle ... and, well, there are protocols, reflexive, basic things that come with being Praxian. How to talk to a third when two agree and they won't. Ways to stand, to talk, to present it that will make him more likely to accept without fighting. I can show you, even transfer some of those protocols if you want them."

"Protocols he has," Jazz said, and sighed, then nodded. "Anything that's going to make this easier. He doesn't give up. He probably _won't_ give up, not completely, even once we're home." He pulled Radiance tight for a moment, then they rose together. "It won't hurt anything to give him a few more joors of hope."

"I'm going giving up either," Radiance said firmly. "Not until we've found them." He rested his forehelm against Jazz's gently. "No, a few more joors won't hurt, but tonight. We must tell him tonight no matter how much it hurts." He paused, stroking Jazz's doorwings in a soothing way. "In the meantime, it won't hurt to focus on helping you accept and begin to recover."

Jazz's gaze flickered. "I'm not...going to grieve for them," he said, as blunt as he could manage in front of someone that he knew would. "I've never missed them."

"But you are already grieving for the pain this is going to cause Pantera," Radiance said gently, guiding Jazz inside.

"I grieve for anything that causes him pain," Jazz murmured, doing nothing to resist. "Everything he's survived...he doesn't _deserve_ this, it's not-" He cut himself off quickly. They all knew their world wasn't fair, saying it did nothing. "He should have had better than this."

"So should you," Radiance said too firmly to argue with as they entered the lift to the floor their room was on.

Jazz tossed him a wry smile. "I got what I was created for, he didn't. Though...I sometimes wonder if my creators had known..." He shook his head, glanced at the progress of the lift, and ran his fingers up Radiance's arm, over his shoulder, and traced up his neck. "Come here."

Radiance gave a small, sad smile and leaned in, pressing their mouths together, willing to offer whatever comfort his love needed.

Jazz shivered and pulled him flush. "'S getting harder not to give things away to you," he murmured, smiling faintly. The lift stopped on their level and the door opened for them to exit together, making the short walk down to their room.

"I think that means I'm doing it right," Radiance smiled, sneaking another kiss as the door opened for them. "It should be difficult to keep secrets from your mates."

Jazz hummed, backing towards the single berth and bringing Radiance with him. "Since I find myself not wanting to keep secrets from you, definitely." His legs hit the berth and he pulled the dark mech against him, pressing a soft kiss. "All I ask is that if you can't...reconcile, with what we tell you, you give us time to get away and you don't come looking."

"I have difficulty imagining that situation," Radiance murmured between kisses, easily shifting into the more amorous mood his mate was displaying. "You have my word, for what little it would matter from a dead mech."

Jazz gave him a knowing smile, sitting, and then laying back on the berth, pulling Radiance with. "I would try to convince him not to kill you, but I don't know how successful I'd be. Better for everyone if that never happens."

"Agreed," Radiance continued to kiss him, his hands playing the familiar frame expertly, matching the desires of the field against his. "Anything worse than the snuff I've already seen?"

Jazz caught his hands, stopping them, until Radiance lifted his head to look down at his lover, whose field had gone from warm and inviting to cold and serious in a single sparkpulse. "Yes," Jazz said, looking right into his visor. "Do you want to know what?"

"If you are willing to tell me now, yes," Radiance was just as serious just as fast. "I understand the risks of doing so if I am wrong. Pantera will need the support right now, not another loss."

"Willing to tell you, not willing to risk what Pantera needs," Jazz said, and let go of the wrists, field relaxing again. "He'll need someone who can grieve them with him. He loves them, he wanted them so badly, I-_I_ wanted them, it all just..."

"You're a good mate," Radiance kissed him gently. "As hard as it is for you to imagine, you are not the first to be unable to bond to your creation because of the conditions of kindling. It is a terrible thing, it rips families apart, but you are not the first and you will not be the last." He kissed Jazz again, gentle and chaste. "Remember that I am here for you, too. You were the one that first caught my attention. I would help you grieve what is hurting you as well."

Jazz dimmed his optics, pulling the kiss deeper for a long klik. "Forever ago," he murmured. "When you helped me recharge, when you didn't take advantage... _Radiance,_" he moaned as the knowing fingers dipped and stroked.

"I don't take advantage, lovely," Radiance said quietly, kissing his way down Jazz's neck. "It broke my spark that one as young as you would feel the need to ask a friend not to. I wasn't going to abandon you after that."

"Glad you didn't," Jazz said, gasping when the teasing mouth ghosted over his chest, not a request, but an erotic suggestion of more later to come. "Needed that more than I realized."

"I'm glad I could be there for you," Radiance murmured as his mouth trailed along a hip joint towards Jazz's interface covers. "I'm glad you accepted my offer."

"So am I, so are _we_," Jazz said, relaxing fully. "Something about you-" His hips pushed into the warm touch that was heating his entire frame with barely any effort. "Suddenly can't imagine not having you. Want you," he moaned, legs spreading.

Radiance purred. "My spike, my mouth, my valve...?"

"Everything," Jazz laughed breathlessly, then pushed himself up on an elbow and reached down with the other hand to stroke over Radiance's helm. "Your spike," he murmured. "Right now...your spike and your cable."

Radiance smiled and shifted to kiss Jazz, gently but thoroughly. "Anything you desire, my love." He shivered. "You have no idea how _good_ it feels to be allowed to say that, even if only in private." He slid his spike cover back and unspooled a thick interfacing cable. "I'm all yours."

Jazz shivered, valve and dataport both open in the next moment. He drew an intake, settled himself, and pulled his knees back, lifting his hips. "_Please,_" he whispered. "Don't be gentle. Make me forget what I'm about to do."

There was a fraction of a hesitation before Radiance nodded and plugged in. ~Just try to shield me from it.~

With a shiver, Radiance centered himself and drove his spike into the willing form in a single, hard thrust. He braced himself over his lover with one hand and allowed the other to caress over Jazz's frame as he began to drive, deep and hard. Far rougher than he ever was with Prowl, or any other lover.

~Any ... what works best?~ he asked a bit uneasily

Jazz caressed him over the hardline, calming from the rough use alone. He tilted his head back, offered an image of his throat with fingers closed around it. ~Not gonna make you draw energon, love,~ he moaned. ~Unless you feel like it. Just need to feel pinned and used.~

Radiance nodded and leaned in to kiss him. As he pulled back he put more of his weight on their hips in order to free his hands, one of them catching Jazz's wrists and moving quickly to bind him with a pair of cuffs. That done, he levered much of his forward mass onto a hand that closed around Jazz's throat.

Jazz could feel through the hardline that this did nothing for Radiance, and that his lover was carefully monitoring his status, but with the next brutally hard drive of Radiance's hips against the lock of the hand pinning him down, a wave of peace washed through him.

~Thank you,~ he gasped, ~For letting me be selfish, for doing this, I know you don't, you don't...~ His valve tightened, quivered, he moaned, pushing back into the thrusts, arms stretched up, fingers clenching around nothing. ~I promise when I'm stronger than tonight, I swear-nnh, won't make you.~

~Part of being triad is giving what is needed,~ Radiance groaned at the pleasure from his spike and what was flowing through the hardline. ~I do things for you. You do things for me. We do things for Pantera. He does things for us.~ He punctuated each statement with a hard, driving thrust that shook Jazz's entire frame. ~Tell me, what does this, the pain, the _use_, give you?~

~Calm,~ Jazz managed. ~_Peace_. Grounding.~ He tried, as best as he could, to show the way the abuse of his frame could sooth the shattered feeling in his spark, endless layers of guilt for things he _knew_ he wasn't to blame for, but he couldn't stop himself from _feeling_.

His glitch that he wasn't strong enough to stop.

Not being able to grieve with Prowl.

Older, deeper sins that were still shielded, but ones that _hurt_ to remember.

A carrier's frame, a designation, _Skywatch._

Giving up. Leaving the younglings to their fates. Telling Prowl it was time to stop.

~They stop hurting,~ Jazz whispered, frame slack and unresisting. ~When I give up, when I stop fighting the logic and just let them hurt, I can let myself pay, and it stops.~

Radiance shuddered at the hints he was getting, shocked to his core that a mech so very young could have so much guilt built up already. ~I'll give you what I can,~ he promised. His free hand came between them and felt around Jazz's undercarriage before finding what he was looking for and pressed a single finger, pinching a cable against a support bar.

_Pain_ ripped through Jazz, enough to leave him dizzy and unfocused, followed swiftly by an overwhelming explosion of bliss and the subsequent emotional ecstasy that he pushed through the hardline while simultaneously blocking the pain, trying to reward Radiance for the action as much as he was able.

~_Thank you!_~ he cried, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent, agonized scream.

Skilled fingers moved to another pinch point that created a riot of sensory-scrambling _pain_ as Radiance went through incapacitation strikes designed to disable without damaging. The flood of pleasure from Jazz was intoxicating, crashing through him when he wasn't expecting it and driving his charge to the brink of overload, and it took all his strength to hold out, to wait for as long as he could, or until Jazz had what he needed.

He was starting to doubt his own capacity to keep going, with the bursts of ecstasy that were coming over to him with every strike, when something in Jazz's field shifted, settled, _clicked_, and his lover arched his back, bringing his cuffed hands forward to wrap around Radiance's neck, tugging, pulling him up into a heated, desperate kiss. ~Stop hurting,~ he moaned, everything about him _joyful_, and his next shout was nothing but pleasure from the hard slide of the spike in him.

Radiance gratefully let go and slid his now free hand down Jazz's frame to stroke and please while the hand that had been on Jazz's neck shifted to supporting him. He couldn't even form warning words when his next thrust was an explosion of sensation that threw his helm back with a roar of pure ecstasy.

Jazz seized beneath him almost instantly, hips lifting from the berth as his voice joined his lover's, drowning out everything else as they shook together before the charge dissipated into the air around them with a final loud _crack_ of static.

They slumped in unison, panting and strutless, and Jazz gave a hard shiver, cuffed arms wrapped around Radiance and holding him tightly. ~Love you, thank you, love you,~ he murmured, dazed.

~Love you, glad to help,~ Radiance said honestly, nuzzling Jazz. ~Hands?~

Blearily, Jazz brought them up and around to where Radiance could reach them, and settled them on his lover's helm once they were free.

Peace, calm, _certainty_ that what they were doing was the right thing, and the strength to do it. Jazz pushed all of that across the hardline, the faint charge that came with any data transfer over the interfacing connection making Radiance shiver.

~That's what it does for me,~ he said.

~Thank you for sharing that, my love, my lovely Saxo,~ Radiance murmured, awed and slightly bewildered at how pain could settle a mech like that, but without a single trace of doubt that it did work for Saxo. ~Thank you for trusting me with this, with helping you.~ He murmured and kissed Jazz softly. ~Dataline?~

Jazz nodded, somewhat regretfully, but they were here for a reason. He helped Radiance make the cable exchange, tucking Radiance's gently back into his chest before hooking up the hard dataline, carefully lowering firewalls for the dark mech. ~You said there are protocols that can help.~

~Yes. Unlike Seekers who are driven to form trines or risk destabilizing, it's only something Praxians _like_. I know you felt it in the shower, how Pantera and I responded to it,~ he murmured, offering a rather sizable datapack to Jazz. ~We're going to be one of those triads that confuses everyone, because we so smoothly shift who's dominant.~

~That isn't normally the case?~ Jazz questioned as he skimmed through the files as they downloaded. It would take a sizable installation and reboot that they didn't have time for in order to integrate them all before they needed to go talk to Prowl, so he looked to the ones that Radiance had tagged as priority. ~Most have more set roles?~

~Trines always do. No functional trine does not have an Order to lead and hunt, a Vision to think and carry, and an Action to guard them both.~ Radiance transmitted glyphs nearly as old as Seeker kind, every one of them entwined with a respect that was beyond conscious thought. This was simply part of the _Truth_ that allowed society to continue. ~Praxians, and Seeker-kin Aerials to a lesser extent, have inherited the desire to trine, but less of the need to have specific roles for each member.~

Jazz smiled faintly. ~Pantera could be all three of those,~ he said. He watched the scrolling lines of code go by on his HUD, reading protocols that would install properly as soon as he did a hard reboot. The most important protocol, how to address a third without making him feel ganged up on, pressured, or patronized, looked to be a complex mix of position, wing language, tone, even the length of time each member was allowed to spend talking. Even some words and glyphs had notes about usage, both to avoid or to use.

From the view of his noble upbringing and coding, he recognized it in another way. A social ritual, much like how an energon sampling was served. There were signals that broadcast a lack of threat, some that offered comfort, others that reminded everyone of the ties that bound them. It could be intensely stressful to perform such an intimate social dance, but Jazz had also literally been created to do just that. These were different rules, but it was something that spoke to his spark.

Ritual was a good thing, for both him and Prowl, even if they had been designed to perform in different worlds.

He nodded as the last of the script scrolled by. ~This will integrate well with my coding,~ he said, pleased by the finesse and social structure he was seeing. ~The framework that remains of my function is well suited to it.~

~Good,~ Radiance gave a relieved x-vent. ~Nothing there is critical, it's not like a trine where stepping out of place will cause a problem or result in violence. For us, it's more a comfort most don't even recognize consciously, but we do feel it.~ He stroked Jazz's face gently, kissing him between touches. ~You are an amazing mate, Saxo. Truly amazing. I will guard you as you reboot,~ he promised.

~Action,~ Jazz said, enjoying the sound of the new glyph as applied to the dark mech that was draped over him. He took one last kiss, then dropped offline in a final act to make what had to happen as easy on Prowl as they could.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Radiance paused outside the door to the Simfur Enforcer's central datanet and looked at the Praxian mech next to him. Jazz might not have been created Praxian, but he had the frame and some of the coding now, along with the legal citizenship. As far as anyone would ever be concerned, that made him fully so. Radiance couldn't deny that it felt amazingly good to have two Praxians in his potential triad.

"Ready?" he asked, settling his armor and his spark. This wasn't the first time he'd given news that a creation was gone, but it was the closest he'd even been to the mecha receiving the news.

Jazz nodded once and palmed the door open, using the temporary codes that Simfur's commissioner had given them instead of the Imperial override codes that would get Whiplash on his back. They entered together, finding Prowl sitting perfectly still, optics dimmed, the majority of his attention and energy focused on the single task of crawling the surveillance systems and everything else he could monitor to look for the mech who had taken his younglings, or any hint of the youngling fighting pit players that were known.

"Pantera," Jazz trilled quietly to pull him from his monitoring, while Radiance went to him, settling hands on his shoulders, rubbing. They both noticed how Prowl pressed into the touch with a low sound of pleasure even before his optics brightened or his field did more than recognize them.

"Come take a break with us," Radiance said. "We miss you."

Prowl shivered and pressed himself more firmly into Radiance touch as he reached out for Jazz, drawing him into his lap. The next brush of Prowl's field told them he _knew_ what they were really here for, and he was grateful for the effort to comfort him before forcing him to admit what he couldn't stand to think.

Jazz brushed their helms together, hands framing Prowl's face as he and Radiance reached out with their fields, twining all three together, familiar and reassuring that they were here, they would always be here.

"When was the last time you fueled or stretched?" Jazz asked, fighting down the reflexive arousal at the position and warmth of Prowl's arms around him.

"Fuel, six joors. Moved, not since you were here." Prowl murmured, relaxing into the contact for a moment, willing to simply be with his mates and relish the closeness.

"Then come stretch your frame and get a snack," Radiance nuzzled him, fingers easily finding the tensest cables and rubbing them to relax Prowl a bit. "You aren't built for this. Not anymore."

Prowl couldn't even muster the care that Radiance had mentioned his rebuild. It wasn't a secret anymore, not really. Not even that it had happened twice.

They led him out of the precinct and the short drive away to a small cafe, one not very far away at all from the apartment Jazz and Prowl had lived in for their short stay in Simfur that Jazz remembered, but had never been to.

Small, minimally decorated, designed to appeal to working class mecha with low prices and simple, efficient fuels on offer, with enough room to comfortably seat three without brushing fields with anyone else if you were careful. They ordered a plate of simple treats that barely had enough energy in them to be called fuel, but none of them needed the energon, and they all knew this was part of a careful process. From the sympathetic look the server gave them, he understood too, at least that they were trying to cheer up.

"Being here makes me appreciate Praxus all the more," Jazz said, smiling faintly as they found a table in the corner and snuggled Prowl between them. "This is the city where I danced for weapons dealers," he added for Radiance. They didn't have to be so careful now, when Radiance would know everything before they returned to work.

"It wasn't a bad time," Prowl murmured between nibbles of a confection with a nearly painfully acidic center that was far more favored here than in Praxus. "But it's difficult not to find anywhere not bad when you can find work you like. I'm still glad we left. Praxus gave us so much more than I ever imagined possible," he smiled weakly and leaned into Radiance a bit.

Radiance wrapped an arm around him and kissed the top of his helm. "I'm glad you left, too." He grinned at Jazz. "Any of them make an unwanted pass at you that I can arrest them for?"

Jazz cocked his head and grinned back. "Nah, having a growly mate around dissuaded them," he said, trying to keep conversation light for now. He slipped his fingers around Prowl's. "Praxus is better. Praxus brought us so much more. And got you a sexy paint job."

Prowl actually chuckled and turned his helm to kiss Jazz, soft and chaste, but it still gave Jazz a hint of the acid that his mate enjoyed so much in his 'sweets'. "It got you a very sexy new look too," he purred with a low rumble. "You always look good, but I do love the doorwings."

Jazz grinned, shifting close enough so their legs were pressed flush together and lifted one of the treats to Prowl's mouth while Radiance moved his hand to the back of Prowl's neck, rubbing. "I love his doorwings, too," Radiance agreed, as Jazz slipped his mate a gentle kiss as soon as the treat was gone. "And yours. But I'm obviously biased towards Praxian form," he chuckled.

Jazz hummed in agreement. "The first mech I ever wanted was Praxian," he said. "After my mechling upgrades, I couldn't figure out what the big deal about the interfacing protocols was until I turned a corner and he was standing there." He grinned at Radiance. "Turned everything on."

"Love at first sight," Radiance smiled warmly even as he had to devote a significant portion of his energy in that moment to shutting off the connection-making protocols and keeping them off.

"Quite mutual love at first sight," Prowl admitted, his engine actually beginning to purr at the public attention that was still nearly four decades away from being at all acceptable in Praxus, and at this level would need to wait for at least another couple centuries. "I was lost long before he had a clue what it meant."

Jazz nuzzled his mate and fed him another treat, shifting his gaze to Radiance for the few moments Prowl was focused entirely on that. That single statement, while still not giving much away, suggested enough to easily give away a huge part of their public lie.

Radiance, out of Prowl's line of sight, nodded once. He wasn't chasing down the obvious conclusions to be taken from that, but some came too quickly. They couldn't have met in a single carrier's group. They had known each other much, much longer. The trauma they both referenced at times, each separately, might have been the same. It was nothing he didn't already suspect, at least in part, in the back of his processor. He cared about them far too much not to pay attention to every detail even if he carefully didn't follow the trail to complex conclusions.

Just that was more than enough to have once set Prowl into a desperate panic to hide and erase the truth, but he was relaxed, if not calm. Jazz had said once the search was over they would bring Radiance into their union properly. Prowl had agreed and promised to tell him everything at that time.

More than knowing what they were here to tell him, Prowl knew the search was over.

Jazz made a joke about how typical it was for Prowl to fall for someone who needed a lot of work and patience, Radiance chuckled, and they relaxed together until the plate was empty.

Radiance gave Jazz another nod, and the youngest of their triad focused on Prowl. "Come back to the hotel with us?" he offered.

"Or ... just go home?" Prowl said hesitantly, glancing between his lovers. "I'm not sure I'll want to move once this begins."

Jazz nodded and kissed him softly. "We would like to be home with you," he murmured, gaze flickering up to Radiance. "_Our_ home."

"Should we catch a transport?" Radiance asked. "If we don't call Windcharger, there is plausible deniability about our location."

Prowl chuckled and nuzzled him and singled them all to stand. "I do like how you think."

Radiance smiled and turned Prowl's face towards him with a single finger, brushing their lips together. "I'll get everything from the room and settle the account, and meet you two at the station."

"And then home," Jazz murmured.

There was a short silence.

"And then home," Prowl said, in a voice that all but broke his mates' sparks.


	31. Admissions to the Past

Starcrossed 31: Admissions to the Past  
(alternately titled: The Authors Have Had Enough of Fluff…but then included a bunch anyway because they haven't learned how to say No to the characters)  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Radiance followed Prowl and Jazz through their apartment-_their_ apartment, he thought again, trying to believe those words-up to the second level, and out to the balcony with the hot oil pool. They were quiet, touching to direct more than speaking, all of them tense with the knowledge of what was coming.

They settled in together in the liquid heat and looked out over the glittering landscape of Praxus at night and were simply quiet for a time as the warmth seeped into their frames. Eventually Jazz turned to Prowl, wings set just a fraction low in accordance with the protocols he'd installed. Never held high, when there was to be a potential disagreement, or lowered enough to be submissive with a weakened stance, but just enough to indicate there was no threat, no judgment, only what the mech thought was right and the willingness to stand behind it.

"There's nowhere else to look," Jazz said softly, as Radiance held one of Prowl's hands in his own.

"They are somewhere," Prowl murmured, leaning into his mate. It was part ritual, arguing it, but it was really just trying to process and his field was a riot of the conflict. He _knew_ they were right. It was why he'd suggested coming home. At the same time, his emotional center and spark were in violent denial of what he was hearing.

"They are," Radiance agreed. "But we have nothing to follow, and they could be anywhere. The odds of locating them with three mecha performing random searches among a constantly shifting planet-wide population of billions..."

"And my love," Jazz said, turning Prowl's face towards him with gentle fingertips. "Just because they must be somewhere, does not mean they are somewhere with their sparks still in their frames. That is a small chance, but it grows every orn."

It was a cruel thing to say, that truth, and it made Prowl tremble. His field screamed his denial before he went abruptly calm, only for the denial to build again.

Radiance gave Jazz a worried, confused look.

Jazz reached past Prowl and gave Radiance's hand a brief, reassuring squeeze, while never looking away from Prowl's optics. "Shh, love, it is still a small chance," he murmured. "Most likely, they will survive. Their heritage all but ensures they will do _whatever_ necessary, and they have each other to live for. But we have no way to find them, not without giving up everything and devoting endless vorns to searching."

"We have better ways to hunt," Prowl said calmly despite the rising distress clattering across his processors and interfering once more before being caught and crushed. "Our positions give us access to data networks. A few well crafted spiders will do more good than centuries of pedes to the ground."

"That is a good plan," Radiance said, getting close enough to nuzzle him.

Jazz nodded and pushed his agreement into his field. "That will keep you here, and safe, and you will do better if you are not looking for them yourself. This will get easier," he said, carefully monitoring the rapid shifting in his mate's field between calm and distress. He placed his hand over the center of Prowl's chest, met his optics. "You know it will."

There was a spike of _denial-pain-distress-hate_ and then he settled again. "I know." He shivered, pressing into the offered comfort. "Three orns and it'll be functionally over."

Jazz's gaze dimmed. "Love..." he said, sadly.

"Three orns?" Radiance echoed, stunned. He turned Prowl's face towards him. "How will this be over in three orns?"

"Protocols that kept me functional when I gave up the sparklings I carried," Prowl answered him quietly. "It works better when the creator protocols are not allowed to fully engage in the first place, but it works well enough even with these two. Something I asked you to forget I possessed."

Radiance was quiet for a long moment. "I learned something that made me certain that coding was keeping you from feeling the grief of giving your creations up," he finally murmured, and his hand came around to rest over Jazz's, directly above Prowl's spark. "Grief that would be here. Will they work the same for this?"

"Yes, as soon as I admitted to myself that they were gone, it activated," Prowl lifted a hand from Radiance's grip to place it over the two over his spark. "It is the nature of it, of the existence I was created for."

Radiance shivered, fully aware of how much information was hidden away in the glyphs should he choose to chase it down and link it in with everything else. "Would you like to wait, then?" he asked quietly. "The three orns, until you talk to me?"

Prowl murmured, a wordless sound and lifted his hand from Jazz's grip to cup the back of Radiance's neck, drawing him in to rest their chevrons together. "No. I would rather the trauma be revisited all at once. What we survived was ugly, and much of it is still very raw."

"You survived it together," Radiance said, now more certain of that than ever, and they both nodded. His spark felt tight, anxious, and as much as he tried, his vents weren't entirely steady.

Jazz hand cupped a hand on Prowl's cheek to draw him around and looked into his mate's optics as he brought both hands up to cup his face. "I'd like you to spark merge with him," he said, so quiet that Radiance could barely hear him. "Once it's over."

It was Prowl's turn to shake, his field, unguarded here between the mecha he loved, undulated and flickered, washing between deep fear from multiple sources, desire just as intense as uncertainty. "You ... are sure?"

"I'm sure," Jazz said, steady and certain against him. "I've wanted that for a long time. Wanted both of you to have that."

"Saxo..." Radiance drew Jazz's attention. "Three can merge," he said, startled that his mate wouldn't know something as simple as that, Praxian or not. "It isn't hard to do."

The pair went quiet, sullen, pained but calm. It was Prowl who spoke. "When you know the full story, you'll understand. If you wish to merge with only me?" he looked at the dark mech, honestly uncertain.

Radiance answered with a deep, searing kiss. "Yes, _yes_ I want to merge with you, you have no idea..." He looked back at Jazz, hesitated, then reached out to stroke his cheek. "I want both of you."

Jazz shuddered and pressed into the touch. "So do I," he whispered longingly, and there was a sudden _tension_ in his field, followed by a short snap of a burning, seething, wild _rage_ that made Radiance gasp before it was gone, leaving the familiar, calm field in its wake. Jazz shivered and looked to Prowl. "I can hardline in with you, at least."

"Three way hardline," Prowl suggested, standing so they could lay on their berth for this. "This is his story more than mine."

"Combination of both memory sets will show the most," Jazz murmured, almost to himself. "You're sure you want to do this right now?" he asked Prowl one last time as they stood for a moment to let the oil drip from their frames once they stepped out onto the balcony.

"Yes," he nodded, drawing Jazz close and kissing him. "Better to get it over with. We've all wanted this longer than we'll admit to."

Jazz inhaled, cycled, and vented slowly, and held his arm out to Radiance, bringing him in to stand with them, wings brushing together, each holding the others, until they were dry enough to go inside and settle on the berth.

Prowl and Jazz laid Radiance back and stretched out on either side of him, Jazz stroking his helm and Prowl his chest. "Hardline for the story. We can merge if you still want us afterwards," Prowl decided, his tone firm as he shifted his touch to circle a dataport on Radiance's chest.

The port spiraled open as Radiance turned to bring Prowl into a kiss. "I'm not going to stop wanting you, beloved," he murmured. Prowl just smiled at him, field and expression tinged with what felt like an ancient grief, and clicked into his chest.

Radiance's cable went to Jazz, and Jazz's went to Prowl, and on the final click, three processors came peripheral to each other, firewalls lowered, frames settled, and then a long silence.

~Designations first?~ Jazz questioned.

~It will ... I want you to see how he thinks, love,~ Prowl responded with a hint that this was something that excited him very much, that it made Radiance very attractive to him. ~Don't stop yourself from making connections this time,~ he trilled to Radiance. ~I am Seneschal Prowl. He is Lord Jazz of the House of Vortex.~

Radiance didn't need to make connections to know those designations, and the stunned shock that slammed through him and into his field left him feeling beyond dazed. Almost immediately his processors pulled up two detailed images, downloaded as part of a top priority, arrest-on-sight, planet-wide search that was still officially ongoing.

~My frame,~ Jazz said, smiling nostalgically as soon as he saw it. ~How I miss those frames some orns.~

~You-you have botnapping charges against you, serious ones,~ Radiance managed, looking at his lover as _Prowl_ for the first time. ~Of-_you!_ Of-of a...~ He looked back to Jazz. ~They're twins. Primus below, you didn't each carry one, they're _twins!_ You were never botnapped, oh...~ He struggled to sit up between them, too tense to stay completely still, hand going to Jazz's shoulder, then looking at Prowl. ~He ran away with you!~

~Yes. It took us a vorn to get out, and if it hadn't been for what _he_ wanted to do with one of them we would have taken longer. We bolted long before my plans were ready and we paid a high price for it, but we survived.~

~Vortex,~ Radiance said, and then at the way they flinched just at hearing the designation, immediately brushed his field out in comfort and apology. ~Him. What did he...~

Jazz shuddered. ~In time. That's close to the end. The beginning is...~ He cocked his head and his lips quirked up in a slightly smile. ~The very beginning is happier. We were in love, as much as I could understand what that meant, but I was contracted to an oligar who wanted my seals intact. Prowl and I believed that once they had been broken and my bonded tired of my frame's newness, we could be together as much as that world would allow. But... he's a seal fetishist. Once he breaks them, he keeps them until they deactivate, and doesn't let any other touch them. It's the thrill of knowing his is the only spike to have ever been inside a frame.~

Prowl picked up then. ~He kept me alive even after I'd touched his property because it meant he could continue to punish me, and he didn't want me to deactivate while Jazz still had feelings for me.~ He shuddered, part of him shutting down just at the prospect of facing these memories again. It took him a moment to drag himself back to the timeline and begin properly. ~Jazz was kindled to a noble House that was losing credits faster than they gained. I and my creations were their greatest asset other than their own creations they could sell off, so long as they only had a few. My first two were sold to larger Houses. My third is almost one hundred now and I didn't know his designation until recently. He is my replacement for the House, as I went with Lord Jazz to his newly founded House. By then, as I know you've gathered, we were already deeply in love. The night before we left was one of the best, and worst, of my existence up to that point.~

~That's why you've always acted like you've known each other as long as you've been alive,~ Radiance said, and looked at Jazz. ~He's been there since you separated. The Praxian you saw, the first mech you wanted.~ He turned back to Prowl. ~You said you knew as soon as you saw him you were in trouble.~

~Even as a new sparkling he captured me in a way no creation before or since has,~ Prowl confirmed. ~Seneschal coding ensures I have a strong caretaker drive, but very little possessive interest in the youths around me, not even my own. Jazz was the exception. He was my Lord and thus more important than the others, but he was also _mine_ in a way that I still do not completely understand.~

~And I didn't make it easy on him,~ Jazz chuckled, field brimming with bright joy to be able to talk about this with another, freely and without fear. He pulled up the memory of the night he'd snuck into Prowl's quarters and kissed him, the unbelievable _tension_ and _want_ they'd felt. Radiance smiled as they all watched, but too quickly, the memories were shifting forward to Kaon, to Prowl's conversation with fellow servants in a washrack, to his panic, to the desperate, clashing first kisses in a grotto. The tactile/hardline overload that Prowl gave Jazz, sweet and painful all at once. Watching Prowl overload himself, experiencing the erotic tension and an unbridled hope they had both felt at the prospect of running away together, Jazz brimming with hope and joy for the future, before a crack ran through the world at the sound of a single pedefall, and then everything _shattered._

He watched the guards that came in, Jazz's effort to send them away, only to see Prowl bound and a blaster to his helm while Jazz was unceremoniously dragged off. They felt Jazz as he fought against his lover's parting words, and Radiance glimpsed the reality of a long, terrible night grieving for his lover before letting go of him near the end to focus on survival as Prowl would have wanted.

Focus shifted completely to Prowl after that and he shared the strange calmness that came with complete acceptance of his fate, execution.

Only... that execution never came, and before long, Radiance was shuddering along with Prowl, horror growing with every passing moment. Prowl was shielding the agony of these memories, but it came through in the sounds, the thrashes, as his frame was melted away. Radiance didn't have to feel what Prowl had to have a fundamental grasp of what it must have been like. To be able to imagine what it felt like to have his plating either torn off or melted.

Radiance shared Prowl's horror at the words Vortex spoke, at the promises made that were believed. He felt Prowl's desperate move in shutting down his own sensor net in such a crude, if effective, way. He watched as Prowl's very mind, his ability to control his own settings, was shredded and locked down, forcing him to feel everything that happened to him.

There was a brief moment in the memory that Prowl was barely cognizant of but for Radiance it said more about who and what Prowl was than any amount of speech ever could. When the choice was between protecting his frame and securing his mind, Prowl didn't even consider it. The firewalls had his full attention, more important than even working out where he was or what was going on.

Prowl did his best to skim the memories, to lessen the trauma for his new lover without lessening the truth for Radiance of just how much Prowl had survived that orn. Just that night of a vorn.

Fingers melted off, one at a time. Eleven and a half breems in all before his hands, all the way down to his wrists, were finally gone. Eleven and a half breems and Vortex had overloaded twice from it. Prowl offered the number to give Radiance a grounding in how long this torment took since he skimmed much of it. His goal was to make Radiance fully understand what had happened, hopefully without traumatizing him to the extent that they'd been by living through it.

When the memory finally cut for a moment of being knocked offline and returned with the sight of something on the floor in front of him that had Prowl utterly fixated, Radiance peered, confused, trying to figure out what it was. When he realized-

~No-Primus, oh-those-~ He choked. Prowl's doorwings, one of them partially melted, ripped right from the base and thrown to the floor in disgrace.

~It gets worse,~ Prowl warned him, trying to prepare him for a blow that simply couldn't be softened.

Prowl's spike was extended against his will, something that in that moment left the still-dazed Prowl quite confused. Radiance couldn't stop the slight grin when Prowl threw insults instead of fear, only to shudder when he realized that Prowl was trying to anger Vortex enough to kill him right then and there.

Then fire touched spike and the very coding of the memory began to warp from the pain.

Radiance seized from shock and grabbed for Prowl and flared his field, desperate to feel him _safe_ in the present as he watched something that no one could have survived intact. Everything lurched in a confusing moment as Prowl fell, cuffs slipping over the stumps that had been hands, leaving him on his back as a huge, dark frame loomed over him, pressing unrelentingly.

When it finally, _finally_ ended Radiance found that his hands were gripping Prowl tight enough to dent. He tried to loosen his fingers, couldn't even do that, and shuddered when he heard Vortex's parting words, ominous and damning to Jazz, who still had no idea what was coming.

There was a lull for the bonding ceremony and it gave all three a chance to steady themselves again, though Radiance did not miss how easily and completely Jazz was shifting his very core beliefs and needs. It was eerie, and more than a little unsettling to the free-sparked mech.

~It is very normal for a second creation noble,~ Prowl told him gently as Jazz and Radiance both reached for Prowl, holding their mate tightly between them. Despite the calmness of Prowl's words, it was impossible to miss just how badly rattled he was by watching the events that had forged a criminal from a seneschal.

~You don't have to watch all of this,~ Jazz murmured to Radiance. ~It will be much more of the same. But to truly understand us...~

~I need to,~ Radiance said, looking between his mates. ~I'm going to. This...this shaped you.~

~It created us,~ Prowl said. ~What we are now was forged by _him_. What we were before is only a shadow in our current selves.~

Radiance nodded weakly, grateful that the replay was paused, or at least slowed, while he gathered himself. ~I need to know what he did to you both.~

~He didn't deactivate us.~ Prowl answered grimly. ~In the end, that is what he did and did not do.~

~Not for lack of desire,~ Jazz snarled, and watched with some disgust at the way he was trilling subserviently to the rotor as they entered their shared quarters. Radiance watched with no judgment for that but instead with amazement at the way the young processor was already learning field control by using vivid memories. Jazz smiled faintly. ~Seems amateurish now,~ he commented on his own technique.

Radiance shuddered at the memory of the stench from inside that room, something that got worse the further in Jazz moved. The visual feed sharpened as the young noble looked around when coding that was designed to take in a space and figure out the most pleasing aesthetic arrangement for a bonded took over, and then that heightened gaze fell on something sitting off to the side of the berth.

Radiance had both the advantage and disadvantage of realizing what he was looking at before Jazz had, and he choked, groping blinding for Prowl as he stared at the mangled frame that was somehow _still alive_. Optics that were nearly white with agony came on, startling Jazz, and Radiance fled back from the memory, shaking. ~I'm sorry,~ he gasped as they both curled around him. ~I just need-I'm sorry, I've never seen anyone look like that and still be alive.~ There was a _horror_ in seeing a living frame in such condition that simply didn't exist with a deactivated one.

~That first round, as shocking as it looks, is nothing compared to the condition he'd leave me in later,~ Prowl held his lovers tightly, all of them taking much needed comfort in the strength and vitality of the others to get past those moments. Memories flickered from further on, offering themselves for example before Prowl shunted them back into place in the timeline. ~Try to remember. We survived. We are strong, alive and fairly sane. We love you and we are only showing you this because we wish you to be part of our existence forever. If there was a way for you to understand why we've done all we've done, why we are what we are and fear what we do without showing you this, we would.~

Radiance nodded, taking as few moments as possible to steady himself before moving back into the now-combined memory feeds from his mates, the jarring mix of Jazz's shocked panic and anger and Prowl's dread and certainty of what was about to happen leaving him shivering.

As skilled as Jazz was at combat now, he was equally untrained then, and the small, slight frame stood no chance against the combat-upgraded rotor, and he was pinned in moments with no effort, no matter how much he thrashed to escape. From Prowl's memory, Radiance saw the bladed spike, and from Jazz, felt the edges scraping across abdominal plating, leaving him with no doubt that it was as terrifying as it looked. ~He'll rip you apart with that,~ he gasped.

~He did, countless times,~ Jazz said grimly. ~Though it was worst this first night. It got better for me, but for Prowl...~ He shook his head.

They watched in silence as Jazz skimmed the file forward through the moments of pleasure that now sickened him, up to the moment when his spike extended into Vortex's fingers. Prowl synced his own feed back up, and then Jazz felt a confusing, painful _lurch_ while Prowl watched the rotor sink sharpened denta around his love's spike and _tear_, coming away with energon dripping through his lips.

~He never did replace that,~ Prowl added. ~All other damage to both of us was always repaired, but he didn't have a spike again until we escaped.~

The focus shifted to Jazz briefly when the pain abated, watching as his gorgeous spike, a work of art as much as the rest of his frame, was forced into Prowl's mouth. The sickening crunch of Prowl's denta crushing the creation mean for pleasure into bits, then the slide down his intake and into his tank where it would be broken down and used to repair him. If he ever had enough energon again.

Jazz shuddered faintly. ~If you could call what Flatline did 'repairing,'~ he muttered, then smirked as he glanced through Prowl's memory of the view of his legs tied high and apart, putting his forcefully bared valve on open display. ~Well didn't I make a lovely image,~ he said, voice dripping with disdain.

~I like it better when they're flat and you're dripping hot,~ Prowl cooed, forcing a few more modern images into the stream along with his worry for his mate. ~Hated watching what he did to you more than what he did to me.~

Jazz leaned across to kiss him before settling against Radiance's chest, wincing in unison with the other two as Vortex slammed in. He tried to separate the pain from the memory file as much as he could, but the sickening feeling of his delicate valve being shredded in a single pull couldn't be removed. Radiance curled an arm around Jazz, holding tightly. ~You said you sometimes wonder if your creators would have acted the same, if they had known about him.~

Jazz nodded. For his part, the next joors were spent in a disoriented haze of agony, being pushed and pulled around on the berth as nothing more than the plaything that Vortex had still considered him at that point. There was no mistaking the rotor's intense lust through field or frame, curled as he was around the smaller noble, spike pistoning when it was even visible. To call it _rutting_ would almost be generous. It was taking his conquest.

Jazz shook his head and sped the feed up as much as possible while still giving an idea of how endless the first part of night had felt. ~I don't know if they would have or not,~ he said honestly, looking at Prowl. ~I believe my carrier loved me, even if I was only a source of income to my sire.~

~They had a better source of income,~ Radiance said, nuzzling Prowl. ~Apparently they didn't realize it, or thought too much of themselves to use it.~

~A bit of both. I still believe they would have prepared you better had they known,~ Prowl struggled to say through the haze of reliving this, even knowing there was worse to come.

Vortex lumbered off the berth, a sudden and startling pause. ~You will see why those images they circled planet-wide were worthless,~ Jazz said dryly. ~I can only wonder that he didn't give an estimation closer to how I appeared at the end of a vorn.~

~Doesn't help to get Enforcers on your side if you tell them you disfigured your 'botnapped' bonded,~ Radiance murmured, trying not to think about what was coming. ~Your creators supplied those images, Jazz.~

Jazz started slightly, but before he could even begin to respond to that, Vortex was holding the torch to his lips, pinning the noble without needing any restraints.

Radiance made it almost halfway through watching Jazz being all but melted down before he turned away, shaking. ~Stop!~ he gasped, _pleaded_, because even if it didn't look like the mech he'd fallen in love with, the voice was the same, and those shrieking, desperate sounds of agony were overwhelming. ~I'm sorry-a moment, just a moment.~

The response was instant at his word glyph even if it took his processor a moment to realize they really were listening and paying attention to him despite what was passing through the hardlines and their processors.

~Shu, shu, it's okay, love,~ Prowl held him, stroking his chevron with his lips soothingly along the small ridges while Jazz stroked his doorwings in much the same manner. ~We survived. We're okay. We're here and so are you. _He_ is far away.~

~Lucky for him,~ Radiance snarled with a furious rev of his engines, a rare sound for the normally laid back mech. He was calming quickly under their touches, and after another klik, sighed, and nodded. ~All right.~

~You don't have to see all of this,~ Jazz murmured, offering up that option again. ~It will get worse. We can strip the memories down to data files, you would still know everything that happened.~

~_No,_~ Radiance said. ~I am watching with you. You both survived this, I can survive the memories.~

Jazz nodded once and started again. The screams filled their processors, the sight of liquid living metal mixing with transfluid as Vortex ground against the melting frame and overloaded again and again, until the comparative _relief_ when he finished with the torch and wore himself out the rest of the way by driving into the gash between Jazz's legs that could no longer be called a valve.

The relief when Vortex finally dropped into recharge, right on top of Jazz, was intense.

The brief exchange that followed on their comms was telling to the mech whose gift was connecting data. Despite it all, Prowl was still focused on helping Jazz, and Jazz was obedient to him despite their significant gap in rank.

All three used the break to recover, but it was Radiance that noticed there was still a feed coming from Prowl. Small and dim, but there.

~When he locked my controls, he also prevented me from recharging. The only relief I had was energy deprivation induced stasis, and he rarely allowed me to go that low. Even for repairs I was fully cognizant. As much as one can be after being awake that long. I was pretty glitchy after a vorn.~

Radiance nodded shakily, feeling at once the need to hold and be held that his mates seemed to also be feeling, and it was resulting in their current tangle. ~One night done,~ he said weakly.

~A vorn to go,~ Prowl shuddered, holding him tightly. ~Only a few other nights were markedly different.~ His gaze flicked to Jazz. ~At least from my perspective. The spark merge was a moment for me, a good one. But he should see what you learned to do, to me, to the ones that didn't survive.~

Grief, and a guilt that Radiance had felt once before, welled up in Jazz for a moment.

~He taught you everything he knew,~ Radiance said, and Jazz nodded. Radiance turned to Prowl. ~And ... he practiced on you.~ Against them, Jazz shuddered.

~Yes,~ Prowl nodded, pressing close. ~Towards the end, Jazz was good enough to convince _him_ that he was enjoying it, that he hated me and wanted to punish me for all the trouble I'd caused them.~ A slightly hysterical giggle creeped across the line. ~We're both very good actors when we need to be.~

~You fooled me. I knew you weren't who you said you were, but I had no clue...~

~Only because I asked you to erase it,~ Prowl murmured. ~I kept that memory, if you'd like it back.~

Radiance cocked his head, nodded, and accepted the offered file, then chuckled as it integrated neatly back into the erased spaces. ~I can't be certain, but from that, I am almost positive I had figured out you were a seneschal. Some of the most brilliant mecha with humility and the desire to serve literally bred into them, and ambition bred out.~ He caressed Prowl's cheek. ~Though I'm sure not all of them have sparks as bright and lovely as yours.~

Jazz smiled, then regretfully drew Radiance's attention back. ~He forced me to bond with him the next night,~ he murmured, and the memory stream began again.

Radiance was lost to time and space as his very concept of evil evolved, and his morals of what was acceptable. Not just because he loved these mechs who had done such horrible things, but because he finally understood _how_ a good mecha could do such things and still have a good spark.

He was going to need a few more orns off just to recompile his code and work out how to do his job when he knew what he did now.

All that, and they still were in Vortex's estate. He was becoming a bit numb to the horror, much as they had, but everything still came to a screeching halt when he realized that the current subject was a carrier less than a metacycle from separation and Jazz wasn't just watching or helping, but the primary.

~I'm not proud of this orn,~ Jazz murmured. ~There are many orns I'm not proud of, but this one...~ He trailed off as the carrier begged and he hesitated, before learning in a sudden leap how to _hate_ on command, realizing that the carrier would choose his sparkling's life over Prowl's, and making him scream for it.

Radiance could only stare, frozen, as he felt the glee coming from his lover when the spark left the frame and the memory turned into yet another of the thousands of episodes of Vortex spiking his bonded. He felt a tentative brush from Jazz over the hardline and looked up into wide, uncertain optics.

A moment later, the feed forcefully sped up by Prowl, he saw his lovers' exchanged texts and heard Jazz sobbing.

~P-please tell me that was the worst,~ Radiance couldn't help but plead. He loved these mechs, he really did, but he wasn't sure he could take anything more. Knowing this didn't make him love them any less, but the scars just from watching their memories were already digging deep into his psyche and it wasn't even over yet. They weren't about to run. There was more to come, but he begged them both that it not get any worse.

~No,~ Jazz whispered, optics blinking off as he leaned against Prowl, seeking support from the mech who did know and still loved him despite. ~I won't show you if you don't want to know.~

~I'm sorry,~ Radiance shuddered, pressing close and holding them both. ~I love you both, none of this changes that, but I can't see anything more. I can't. I'm sorry. I want to know you both, but you're stronger than I am right now.~

Prowl reached an arm around to hold Radiance, reassure him by touch and hardline that he was accepted, that it was all right. ~We spent a vorn building up to that, and we either learned to accept, or we'd be extinguished. You do not have the advantage of either. But you've seen enough, if you can still accept us knowing what you know now.~ He glanced at Jazz to confirm that this was enough of a test, enough for Radiance to understand them and their respective glitches. ~It gets much, much calmer once we get away.~

Jazz nodded in agreement, still pressed harder against Prowl. ~There are things before then he should still see,~ he murmured. ~We can filter. He should see when _he_ tried to spark rape you.~

Radiance startled, looking at Prowl, alarmed, and the last thing he expected was to hear Jazz's engines purring from that memory.

Prowl chuckled and purred back, a vicious grin on his face as the memory opened up. It began with the usual refueling. Vortex grabbed him by the neck, forced his face up and poured high grade down his intake, giddy as the energy exploded through Prowl's systems in fits and spurts, causing him to thrash. It was a lot of energon to take in at once, but Prowl quickly began routing it to his processor. It left him more dazed that he had to be, but all the programs and automatic scripts that didn't need his commands began to run. His control over a network that spanned the estate in intimate detail and spread over the entire empire through the standard networks didn't fail to leave Radiance amazed in the best of ways.

Then Jazz came in and made himself seductive on the berth while Vortex watched, then hauled Prowl to the end of the berth. The next line made even Radiance stall.

_"You will pleasure him. Fail to knock him offline and I will punish you severely."_

~All I can guess is that he really believed Prowl wouldn't be able to handle more than one overload of his own, if that, and that I might never reach one,~ Jazz said. ~It... that was when I realized he meant to keep me, instead of snuff me once he had his heirs. That he loved me, and believed I loved him.~ Jazz smiled faintly, leaning against his mate as they relived this glimmer of something less than horrible from their time spent trapped in that estate. ~You are a stud,~ he teased his lover. ~Your heritage served you well.~

~I'd spent many vorns imagining pleasuring you, even if I'd always assumed I would be doing so as the submissive one,~ Prowl purred, his engine rumbling as their first real interface played out in gorgeous detail. Jazz may not have dared record this in high quality, but Prowl had. Every taste, every shiver, every sound and touch was as intense as it had been in that moment when their long denied desires had finally been acted on. It was enough to bring them very close to overload even now.

Radiance tried to focus through his lovers' pleasured haze, confused by something else he was feeling. ~He's enraged,~ he murmured. ~Why hasn't he stopped you yet? He can see how much you're enjoying this.~

Jazz managed to pull out of the memory enough to mentally shrug. ~He ordered Prowl to offline me, I assume he wanted to see through to the conclusion.~ He moaned when Prowl forced him over, pushing his shoulders down and pulling his aft up. ~So good even with what you were using,~ he gasped, and both Praxians purred proudly to him.

~Wanted you for so long,~ Prowl shivered, his will to hold to the memories wavering in face of his desire to overload inside his mate once more. ~It was amazing to feel you around me, against me like that. I couldn't make myself care what was coming. I had you for that moment.~

~Do you two want to take a break?~ Radiance teased.

~Yes!~ two minds echoed through his processor, causing all three to laugh.

~When do we pass up a chance to 'face?~ Prowl purred deeply as he put the show on pause and focused fully on the here and now.

~Never, you two are the worst I've seen,~ Radiance chuckled as Jazz scrambled into his mate's lap, reaching for Radiance as he grabbed Prowl in a deep, consuming kiss.

"Come on," Jazz gasped, speaking out loud and grinding their panels together. "Frag me like you did then."

Prowl's engine gave a deep growl of desire that flooded both the other mechs across the hardlines before he pushed Jazz down, pinning him on his back and grinding their panels together briefly before Prowl snapped his open. "Mine, my lovely. Always mine."

Jazz grinned, baring himself for his lover, as Radiance shifted behind Prowl and rubbed warm, inviting fingers over the closed valve panel. It snapped open immediately and Prowl pressed into that most welcome touch that placed him firmly in the middle.

"Let a Praxian stud please you at the same time," Radiance purred, leaning over him, running an inviting hand up the inside of his thigh. He reveled in the desire they both felt for him, how welcomed he was into this intimacy that they had no need to allow him into. It was a welcome relief from the memories as well, a reminder of why he was enduring it.

"Yes," Jazz moaned at the idea. "We'll have you between us, my love."

Prowl could only moan and leaned forward to kiss Jazz, hot and deep as he sank into the valve that was always slick and ready for him. Through the hardline he shared the sensation with both his lovers, along with his intense anticipation of being pressed and ground between two mecha he loved dearly. The perfection that was a triad slipped from both Prowl and Radiance, flooding into Jazz and encouraging the fledgling Praxian protocols to engage more fully and experience the bliss that was being with three that meshed so well.

Radiance shifted and angled himself to push into Prowl, completing the union, and Jazz gave a sharp, keening cry as he felt the pleasure rush from both of his lovers. "Radiance," he sobbed, and something in his voice made both Praxians stop and hold where they were.

~Jazz,~ Radiance answered.

~Everything I've done, you can still stand me?~

"Would you kiss our ridiculous mate for me, please?" Radiance murmured to Prowl, and hummed in approval as Prowl happily and readily complied with the request. ~Not only can I still stand you, I still love you so much it _hurts_ to imagine not having you. Not being able to handle the things you were _forced_ to do to survive isn't a reflection of who _you_ are to me. You are strong, you saved Prowl when I couldn't, and you are a _good mech_. And Jazz...~

Jazz hummed through the deep kiss that Prowl was still giving him.

"You are _ours_," Radiance said, and slammed his hips forward, causing Prowl's frame to shift forward, driving him deeper into Jazz, and his powerful engines revved at the dual cries he got in response. "Now, my love, will you help me drive our mate," he pulled out and thrust again, ~Our _Prowl_,~ he gripped Prowl's hips in his hands, "To a screaming, processor-whiting overload?"

Jazz's frame tried to arch up under the weight of both his lovers. "Yes!" he cried, pulling his legs back to hook around Prowl's hips, pulsing ecstasy through his field and over the hardline. "Love you both, want you both!"

"Triad, lover," Radiance purred, pleasure coursing through him. "You have us both."

~Feel how good it is, my Jazz,~ Prowl moaned, trembling as he allowed Radiance to drive the pace, smoothly moving as the others dictated. ~I'll never need more than you, but this is so _perfect_.~

~It is good,~ Jazz gasped, rocking his hips in a counter-rhythm to Radiance, pushing and pulling at Prowl between them. His hand reached up and back, found Radiance's, twined their fingers together and held tightly. There was a joy, and a peace, to feeling all three frames moving together, each working to pleasure the others, each being pleasured by the others. ~It's like a dream.~

~This is triad at its best,~ Radiance moaned, hints of what his own creator-triad felt like when they were all settled by a recent interface slipping into the connection. ~Triad is much stronger than three.~

Prowl could only tremble between them, his ability to think largely wiped out already, but he responded to Radiance words with belief and deeply coded agreement that helped Jazz's new protocols connect further into his own processors through the deep links he already shared with Prowl.

Jazz managed to nod, face pressed to Prowl's helm, his lover's against his neck, Radiance moving above both of them. ~Prowl, Jazz,~ the dark mech gasped, the new designations making his lovers' fields flare out in pleasure in a way the assumed ones never had.

~_Radiance_,~ they responded in unison, before all three were _lost_ to the triad union, crying out and shaking together, _bliss-joy-sorrow-love-support-ecstasy_ tumbling chaotically through their twirling, meshing fields, more of a rush than the charge that flooded through their frames ever could be.

They remained there, joined and unified as well as any unbonded mecha could be as they gradually came down from the intense high of it all.

~A break was a good idea,~ Radiance mumbled when his upper functions finished their reluctant boot cycle.

~Yes,~ Prowl agreed, his processors happily lazy along with his frame. There was a desire to get back to the job of filling Radiance in on what had happened to them, but it was barely a blip on their shared awareness right now.

~Show me what he did to you,~ Radiance finally murmured, and he lifted himself up, pulling out of Prowl to settle next to them on the berth, coaxing Prowl to roll between them. His lovers moved in unison, shifting to their sides, frames still joined, and Radiance pressed his chest to Prowl's back, slipping back into his valve and staying there, comfort more than pleasure.

~It's more what he tried to do,~ Jazz said, smiling, beginning the memory stream again and syncing it up with Prowl's, letting the rounds of interfacing play out until his own file cut out, knocked offline, and Jazz paused for Prowl to continue alone. Prowl skimmed forward over the fear and pain that was being grabbed by the neck and having his chest plates ripped open.

When Prowl's chamber irised open it slowed to real time. The real terror was here, fear on a level that Prowl had never known before, not in nearly a vorn of being the sadist's plaything. They all felt Vortex's pleasure at the reaction and against when a finger was dipped directly into Prowl's spark, then the visual of Vortex's chest plates parting. They all felt it when the memory began to corrupt as Prowl went from afraid and slipped into pure irrational terror.

The merge came fast and painful, and while the memory was still corrupted they caught the shift in the underlying sensations that quickly calmed Prowl's processors. The memory came back into focus, uncorrupted, as Prowl's spark latched onto the large red orb invading him and locked their energies together.

~You've come into my realm,~ Radiance heard in a voice he _knew_ even without having ever heard it. That voice was Prowl, the very essence of the spark that powered the frame. ~You would try to kindle with me. Force me to bear your creation until you ripped it out of me. You know so little of this place.~

Prowl grinned internally as the Vortex of his memory felt fear for the first time in his life, fear that turned into panic when he tried to escape. Radiance's engines rumbled and Jazz's purred.

~Insolent nothing,~ the rotor hissed back, stalling. ~You should only be so honored to bear my creation.~ But the words had felt hollow and sounded weak, and Prowl allowed himself the rush of absolute authority over life and death that was rare enough to feel unnatural.

~No, Vortex. You will bear mine,~ Prowl's voice was strong, certain, even. The pale spark surged, enveloping Vortex's much as Vortex had done to Jazz. ~You were created far below me. You will always be below me. You can break my frame, send my spark back to Primus, but you can not erase the truth that is here.~ Prowl's spark surrounded and trapped with a viciousness he had never displayed in his life before that moment and that still did not come easily for the normally calm mech. His spark held a fire that his processors were carefully shielded from. One brush of that heat had both his lovers moaning and pressing in around him, trembling with _want_ to be one with that essence.

Prowl's memory faded, his ability to perceive anything beyond his frame extremely limited, but Jazz picked up smoothly, showing Radiance what he'd booted to see and hear and how he'd reacted, tearing the two apart, something he still regretted doing, now that he knew what had happened. In that moment, both Jazz and the construct that Radiance was growing more and more familiar with had just been desperate to save the mechs they loved, each from the other.

Vortex had advanced on him, roared at him, barely masking his new terror with rage, while the vicious growls of what could have been a turbo-wolf about to kill served as a backdrop to the entire scene. Jazz was thrown to the berth, his spark exposed and forced into a merge that left the exhausted frame unable to stay online after the overload.

Jazz paused at that point and exhaled through shivering vents, nudging Radiance through the hardline. Their lover felt dazed.

~If I hadn't wanted him before then,~ Jazz murmured, and his spark _surged_ in his chest, desperately wanting.

~He is amazing,~ Radiance agreed. He nuzzled the back of Prowl's helm. ~Do all seneschals have processors like yours? Your is ... is astonishing. Paired with your spark it makes you formidable."

~I am one of the finest yet produced, so no, most are not quite as good as I am,~ Prowl responded, a bit at a loss at the idea of being formidable in the way Radiance meant but responding to the desire so clear in his mates. If they found it so desirable, he wasn't going to object to the term.

~It explains so much about you,~ Radiance murmured, still in the process of filtering and integrating the massive amount of data that learning who and what his lovers were had brought in. He cycled his vents, taking a moment to enjoy their fields and the warmth of their frames. ~I think I can see more. I just...nothing worse than what I've seen.~

Jazz nodded. ~After this...he was going to kill Prowl. He'd seen how much I still felt for him. I convinced him that I hated him for it, and asked that he let me torture Prowl for his pleasure until I no longer loved him. After that orn...~ He shuddered.

~It was much worse for Jazz, but the acts were not as bad as some he'd already done,~ Prowl supplied. ~I think we can give that as data, though, given you care for me much as he does.~

Radiance reached around Prowl to run his arm up and down Jazz's side, teeking as much as comforting. ~Show me one,~ he decided, and felt a strange flicker of relief and gratitude from his mate.

Jazz and Prowl consulted silently for a moment, then nodded.

~One,~ Jazz said. ~Not the first. One mixed in with the rest of the telling. There is not much longer.~

Radiance shivered. ~Good. I want to know how you got out of there alive.~

Jazz smiled. ~Our lover is responsible for that.~ He and Prowl synced their feeds back up and showed Radiance as many details as quickly as possible, skimming over the repeated sessions of Jazz torturing his love for his bonded's pleasure. Radiance watched Jazz learning how to pick locks and manipulate video feeds and saw the complex planning that Prowl brought together near the end. After they slowed for one of the last times Jazz had ever hurt Prowl, they curled around each other, holding tightly.

~Do you think you would have lasted much longer?~ Radiance asked quietly.

~I would have lasted as long as I had to,~ Prowl responded the only way he could. ~But Jazz, the construct, we were running out of time even before Jazz learned just how horrible _he_ could be.~

~Worse than I've seen?~ Radiance shivered again.

~Worse,~ Jazz said, and they showed Radiance up until the medic announced that Jazz was carrying twins, and let him hear Vortex's response.

It took the SWAT CO a horrified moment to realize that the rotor _had_ meant exactly what he'd said. ~He planned to...~

~He had this..._vision_ of a future with me,~ Jazz said. ~Raising our creation together, teaching him to be like us on his brother. Enjoying _himself_ with his own creation,~ Jazz spat in disgust. He forwarded through the glitching memory stream that followed that moment, his own panic and coding making the images hazy, until Prowl's calm certainty was there. ~But after that...~

They slowed for their escape, the first fight against the construct that showed off Prowl's processors and will, even after all the hacking and viruses that left him in terrible condition, and stopped as they walked out the gates, leaving the estate behind them.

Radiance slumped. ~All that in not even two vorns.~

~It felt much longer,~ Jazz sighed. ~It changed us more than one vorn ever should have.~

~It changed me more than my entire lifetime before it,~ Prowl murmured, his still-active creator protocols raging at Vortex in much the way Jazz's had at the time, only far, far more violent in intent. ~By the time we walked out, we were both too damaged to return to what we had been, even if it had been possible.~

~That hurt you more than the torture,~ Radiance realized as he sorted through the intense emotions Prowl was shielding him from with limited success.

~It destroyed me,~ Prowl responded, shivering and pressing against Radiance as he reached over the black mech to make physical contact with Jazz. ~The Seneschal was destroyed and I was rebuilt from what remained. I lost count of how many times I wished to extinguish to end the broken code, but I couldn't do that to Jazz.~

~Do you...want to stay alive?~ Radiance asked, hesitant and uncertain and unfamiliar with taking one's own spark being considered acceptable, but having seen for himself that for Prowl's kind, it was not unusual. Scattered, terrified thought pieces were flicking through his processor, wondering if mercy, if letting this spark go...if going _with_ him...

~I am ... learning to.~ Prowl responded, catching bits and pieces from Radiance and pushing reassurance through the hardline that it was not something Radiance needed to grapple with. ~I've made it past the hardest part. I've found a new function that agrees with my spark and my base coding. I will always long for what I was, miss what I was created to be, but it dims a little every vorn. I am an Enforcer now. It suits me.~

Radiance nodded, relief clear in every line of his frame. ~I'm going to do everything I can to brighten your existence,~ he said, then turned and brought Jazz into a kiss. ~Both of you.~

~Thank you,~ Jazz kissed him before Prowl turned his helm for his own kiss.

~You do a great deal just being here, love.~ Prowl rested their forehelms together, chevrons lined up. ~My triad coding wasn't even active before you. It feels _good_, settling in a way I didn't know was possible.~

~Same for me,~ Radiance admitted with a soft laugh. ~At least, it wasn't activated like it is now. That first time with you two...that was the first I'd ever been with a pair.~

~You grew up with it, knowing it existed and would activate if you found two others you like,~ Prowl pointed out almost playfully. ~I had no clue until this mass of coding unfurled on me, telling me that three was _right_. I can't say I'm at all sorry for listening to it. You're very good for us.~

~You're good for me,~ Radiance hummed, trying to imagine what it would have been like to have that kind of coding just start up one orn. ~It was lonely before you. I almost can't believe how much now. And knowing you have each other when I'm too busy is a welcome relief.~

~Knowing Prowl has you when I'm gone for orns is too,~ Jazz snuggled against Radiance and gripped Prowl's hand over the back mech. ~Even without the coding you gave me, I could see how this was a good thing for us. I'll have you too, when Prowl finally gives into his natural desires to _work_ for a few orns through. You saw it now, but he used to do it all the time.~

~I enjoy working, performing my function,~ Prowl didn't hesitate to confirm. ~I also enjoy time with my mates. I will never work as I did as a seneschal. I had no one to take care of then. I had the entire estate and all who lived and worked there, but none were _mine_.~

~Until there was a troublemaking sparkling who decided he was going to be yours,~ Jazz teased. ~Whether you liked it or not. He used to call me a Pit demon,~ he added conspiratorially to Radiance.

~He earned it as a mechling too,~ Prowl chuckled, happy to relax and talk of much older times, when they'd had no idea of what was coming. ~What he didn't know is that I saw everything. His first efforts at getting overcharged. The way he danced when he thought no one was watching.~

The playful indignance that came from his younger mate made Radiance chuckle. ~You will have to share,~ he said.

~Have him share the dances when I knew he _was_ watching,~ Jazz purred. ~Those are better. And he was so _frustratingly_ good at never reacting, no matter what I did, I just kept trying harder to get his attention. He was so beautiful and calm and everyone trusted him, even my creators trusted him with me.~ He stroked Prowl's cheek. ~I loved you so.~

~You made it almost impossible to work some orns, and I couldn't bring myself to care,~ Prowl murmured, the tone that of a shameful secret being shared. ~All I could do was watch you and focus on not begging for you to take me.~

~I would have, too,~ Jazz said, shivering. ~Oh, if you had ever asked, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. House reputation be damned. It's a good thing for both of us you had as much self-control as you do.~

Radiance hummed. ~Some orn I'll show you how much self-control he _really_ has,~ he purred. ~Before we work on yours. Don't think we've forgotten about that.~

~But now, perhaps we recharge?~ Prowl suggested. ~We have dealt with a great deal this orn. A long defrag to incorporate it all would do us well.~

~You especially,~ Radiance murmured, stroking his lover's helm, then sighed as he felt Jazz curl up around him from behind. ~All of us.~

~Love you,~ Jazz said, speaking to both of them. ~Thank you.~

Radiance and Prowl echoed the words and all three fell readily into welcome recharge.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Radiance roused first, a glance at his chronometer showing a recharge almost twice as long as what he usually took in a single orn, and his mates were both offline against him. That was little surprise to him, Jazz was integrating a massive number of social protocols and as much triad coding as Radiance could find to give him, and Prowl was dealing with accepting the loss of younglings he had come to know and love, something his coding was not designed for.

Radiance stayed curled between their frames, relaxed and safe and surrounded by warmth on all sides. Jazz and Prowl.

He repeated the new-old, original-designations to himself, enjoying the sound and feel of them. They were new, but he would adjust, easily.

Less easy was going to be adjusting to what they were. Nobles were disliked almost universally by commoners, and there were strong biases towards the kind of structured coding that Prowl had in their society. Not as bad as if he was a pre-prog, but a subtly encouraged disdain. Something Radiance had been working a lifetime to overcome, having met and worked with many mecha from pre-programmed castes over the course of his career.

Radiance _loved_ these two sparks and nothing was ever going to change that. He wanted to tell their story to the world, show off that they were _his_ mates, let everyone know how strong they were. But not only could he not do that, he couldn't even be publicly affectionate for another forty vorns, and a solid hundred and forty or more before he could admit they were triad publicly or legally. Not without causing a scandal that none of them would enjoy. Mecha were understanding of triads that formed before it was acceptable, but only so long as they remained out of sight. At least he knew the three of the most important mecha in his life, his creators, would not care in the least so long as they agreed that his mates were good for him.

But then there was Jazz... Radiance shivered. He understood that it had been sheer desperation to survive that had guided his lover's actions, but that didn't make them easier to know about. That was going to take time.

It was joors later, Radiance still nestled between the other two, integrating all the new data, before Jazz stirred next to him, and a few kliks after that, Prowl's systems began to hum as they started up. After seeing just how complicated Prowl's systems were, it no longer surprised Radiance at how much longer it took Prowl to boot than normal. The mech had a lot of systems to check and far more to load than most.

"You're still here," Jazz's first words contained a mixture of relief and amazement.

"It never even crossed my mind to go," Radiance said, turning his head to accept a kiss. "I found my triad, I'm not leaving it."

Jazz smiled at him, then shifted his gaze to Prowl, watching the familiar start-up sequence. "You realize," he murmured, once he was sure Prowl's external senses had come online, "If he comes looking for us, if he gets even the slightest hint of where we are, we'll have to run."

"I know," Radiance said, voice soft. That was one of the things he was having the most trouble coming to terms with. There was a possibility that he would have to leave Praxus, or lose them both. "I...I would go with you."

There was a rather long pause as Prowl finished booting. "I will save up accordingly," he murmured, then shifted to nuzzle Radiance before lifting up for a long kiss from Jazz. His fingers found Radiance's dataport. "Do you have any questions, now that you have had some time to process?"

"Is..." Radiance said, spiraling open, then hesitated, waiting until Prowl had clicked in and the rest of the three-way hardline was completed. ~Is there any chance he will find you? Your records here are flawless, these rebuilds incredible,~ he ran his hands over their frames, ~But does he have any way to track you?~

~As far as we know, the trail should have died in Crystal City, while I was still carrying,~ Jazz said. ~We do not take risks.~

~There is always a chance,~ Prowl responded seriously as they all felt that powerful number-crunching processor he'd been bred for did what it did best. ~It is minuscule, but it exists.~

~But the bond...~ Radiance said, already coming to conclusions that he didn't like, thinking he had a good idea of why he had only been offered a merge with Prowl, _praying_ that he was wrong.

~Is blocked.~ Jazz said with a growl, all the hate he had for the myriad of issues that created summed up in the sub-glyphs.

~His second rebuild, the emergency that we were paying off until we moved in here, is a permanent bond blocker,~ Prowl said rather bluntly. ~We haven't quite gotten to that part of the story yet.~

Radiance's engines growled deeply, fingers going to Jazz's chest. ~So we can't have you,~ he said, his field filling with a deep, vengeful rage for a mech he'd never seen and who didn't even know he existed for stealing this from him. ~I realized you weren't bonded, but...~ He looked at Prowl. ~You've never merged, not once.~

~No, we haven't,~ Jazz affirmed, a bitter smile playing over his features. ~My _bonded's_ is the only spark I've known.~

~I'll kill him,~ Radiance snarled, startling even himself at the vehement declaration, primal _protect-vengeance_ triad coding that he'd never been aware of before flaring up.

~If you get the shot, take it,~ Prowl couldn't make himself say anything else, his own rage flaring hot and bright in a way that terrified his core coding, but was also far beyond its ability to dampen. ~We will protect you from anything that comes of it. But if you can, _catch_ him and give him to us. We have learned so much we want to show him. Not to exclude you, but I do not think you want to be part of what we want to do.~

Jazz purred just at the thought of it. ~Unless you'd like to be there for the opening act,~ he said. ~I'm going to force him to watch as I overload hard and fast on Prowl. He would have kept my valve to himself for eternity, I want him to watch as a mech he considered as less than an Empty brings me more pleasure than he ever could.~

Radiance purred back. ~For that, yes,~ he said. ~But I do not have the taste for torture that you do, my love.~

~He taught it to me, he will suffer for it,~ Jazz said. ~As long as you are nearby when the bond breaks, I will be content.~

~We intend to bond as soon after the break as possible,~ Prowl added. ~Preferably before _he_ even cools. We would include you in that if you can accept the setting.~

~That, I can do,~ Radiance said. He looked to Prowl. ~How did you avoid detection after you got away from the estate?~

~You saw how much I stole from him before we ran?~ Prowl asked and got a nod. ~Much of it was used to pay for our rebuild. High quality materials, military to noble grade armor and systems. The protocols to run them. But what we truly paid for was an invention. Something called sorcelling. We each have it installed.~ He included the basic technical file of what it could do.

Radiance glanced over it, and his frame seized up in shock. ~That's-that kind of technology is considered impossible,~ he gasped. ~It's not even technically illegal because no one thinks it can be done, so no one has bothered!~

~We know,~ Prowl chuckled. ~We are the test subjects. We got it relatively cheap because it was completely unproven. I don't exactly keep him up to date, but until the inventor was paid off he knew it was working well enough that we were still free.~

Radiance looked between them. ~How in Primus's name did you even find that?~

Jazz chuckled and looked fondly over at Prowl. ~Our lover has many connections,~ he said. ~One led us to an inventor and his apprentice.~ Jazz's first sight of Mucit and Wheeljack came up, and recognition came immediately to Radiance's field.

~I've seen that face,~ Radiance said. ~Denounced scientist, he's supposed to be crazy.~ He glanced at his lovers. ~Though apparently not.~

~Crazy or not, he does very good work and much more importantly, he has an impeccable reputation for discretion and not speaking of his clients,~ Prowl said. ~He charges a fortune, but it is worth every credit.~

~Agreed,~ Jazz said, and grinned hugely. ~Because doorwings.~

Prowl gave his lover a fondly patient look. ~The ability to change appearance and escape at a moment's notice isn't bad, either.~

~Yeah, I guess,~ Jazz said. ~But _doorwings!_~

~I have to agree with him on this one,~ Radiance said, also grinning at Prowl. ~Show me the rest?~

The pair nodded and queued up their memories from when they got outside the estate and everything had become so very real. They split up, Jazz driving, because he could still transform and Prowl walking, such as he could, since his mangled form could do no better. It was a slow progress, and painful, though it didn't really register as pain to Prowl, not after the agonies he'd endured, only as a hindrance to movement.

Meeting up at the by-joor room, watching his young lover experience something other than a noble's realm for the first time, realizing just how little he'd known, and then moving on to the warehouse and Mucit. Radiance almost sobbed along with Jazz in the memory when he heard the voice he knew as Prowl's. ~I'm going to thank that mech if I ever meet him,~ he said.

Jazz leaned against him as they skimmed forward through that long, exhausting drive before finally reaching the safety of an empty estate, and Radiance felt an immediate brightening in both his lovers.

~Alone, safe, and repaired,~ he summarized. ~How long did you stay there?~

~A decaorn,~ Jazz said.

~And how many overloads in that decaorn?~

~I have no idea,~ Prowl smiled fondly. ~Many. And many, many orns of recharge.~ His entire frame shuddered. ~I needed to defrag so badly. Not even in here can I explain how bad it is going without for so long. The physical pain was easier in many ways than not being able to recharge.~

Jazz trilled to his mate. ~We started discovering the glitches we've been left with, too,~ he sighed, and Radiance saw a reality of vorns of Prowl learning how to recharge without having to drive himself to exhaustion, processors that had been so overclocked for so long that they could no longer cope with having nothing to do, and emotions that were so _painfully_ intense they'd created shorts and a hard crash when the former seneschal hadn't been able to reconcile _why_ he was feeling them.

~Love,~ Radiance gasped, when he realized what Prowl had done in an attempt to avoid future crashes. ~That's why, last night...~

~Yes. When it gets too intense, the hack I wrote forcefully shuts my emotional center down.~ Prowl nodded. ~It's also why I can't grieve effectively any more.~ He paused. ~Not that I ever really did grieve like you do. Something about having such an advanced processor makes it difficult to process more subtle emotional context. Even if it had been repairable, is repairable, I would have to explain how it happened, and I can't. Not while _he_ lives. Much like Jazz's glitches. They could be fixed, but the price was far too high.~

Radiance wrapped his field around them both, offering as much support as he could. ~I'm sorry I tried to push you to,~ he murmured.

~You had no way to know,~ Prowl countered smoothly, holding him. ~I wouldn't tell you. Your spark was in the right place, and I love you for trying.~

Radiance curled into the arms, pressing against the warm frame. ~I couldn't stand seeing you in pain,~ he sighed before they all looked to the memories again. Radiance glimpsed through Tyger Pax, the increasing weight of Vortex's attack on the bond that led them to the drastic act of fleeing to Crystal City for the blocker before losing everything they had to the sheer cost of the energon needed to keep Jazz alive, watched as his lover offered his frame up for credits without a moment's hesitation, and then witnessed the terror of knowing a bounty hunter was close.

For the first time he saw Prowl panic at something that wasn't an immediate threat, though he understood why well. The deal was made by the gang, and Radiance nearly shuddered at how little it registered to Prowl to have his frame used like that, and then he growled when the leader of the gang threw credits down in front of his mate. A caress from that same lover calmed him again, steadying him until he felt the shock as Jazz was told of the reality of being a commoner, or even a very valuable, powerful servant around nobles.

Then they were driving again, headed for Simfur, and if Radiance had been shocked at how little Prowl reacted to selling his frame, he was _stunned_ by what came after, something that could have crippled many mecha, and Jazz had _laughed_. Just the sound of it was enough to make Radiance shudder. It was manic, unhinged, exactly what he'd picked up on Jazz when they'd first met, but on full, unrepentant display in that moment.

Prowl's memory of that moment faded away into a confusing tumble of images that quickly caused the files to corrupt, and Radiance looked to Jazz's feed to watch as Prowl was slowly coaxed out of a severe flashback loop.

~Fragging Simfur Enforcers,~ Radiance snarled. ~Someone should have heard that and stopped them. Rotten city.~

~Simfur was good to us, overall,~ Prowl murmured, giving Radiance the fast forward version of the darker orns, intent on getting to the better part when the black Praxian brought it all to a screeching halt when he saw Prowl draining a mech of energon, right in the relative open of an ally.

~I-I know you said you-~ he stammered. ~Just-to see is-I'm...~ He shivered.

~These were my energy readings while he was doing that,~ Jazz murmured, bringing up a screen that was far, far below what would have been safe for a carrier, especially one of noble protoform, with systems not designed to handle anything less than full tanks.

Radiance nodded. ~I just wasn't expecting...~ He cycled air through his systems, steadying as best as he could. ~Jazz said something like that, once, I knew it had been part of your reality but I wasn't prepared,~ he told Prowl, pressing his hand to the side of the other Enforcer's face. ~You were surviving.~

~Yes, and my carrier-mate, my Lord, was in desperate need,~ Prowl leaned into the contact. ~Thankfully we were not that desperate for long. I may have been on the wrong side of the law while in Simfur, but it was soon a much cleaner form of crime.~

Radiance hummed. ~Well, let's see it then, and I'll see if it warrants handcuffs,~ he teased.

~Since when have you needed probable cause to cuff me?~ Prowl purred, nuzzling in for a kiss.

Radiance obliged him. ~Never,~ he purred back, hand wandering to his lover's flank and back up. With his free hand he reached back for Jazz and tried to pull him even closer. Jazz wrapped an arm around his waist, fingers dancing over his frame.

~You in particularly will likely find his occupation in Simfur interesting,~ Jazz hummed, nipping against Radiance's neck, and the dark mech's field perked with curiosity.

Prowl chuckled. ~Likely so,~ he agreed, and all too willingly showed Radiance his successful theft, followed by the memorable flirting that had taken place in the washrack and left them stumbling for a room.

That scene, like many others before it, left Radiance's engines hot and revving, especially as he watched a new side to Jazz, a forceful lover that he was now familiar with but hadn't seen in these memories until now. He knew Prowl enjoyed that lover, but the memory from Prowl suddenly twisted into something unpleasant as hands closed around his throat.

Radiance felt the frame-locking panic response that Jazz hadn't, as lost as he was, and he could feel the shame coming from their lover as they watched.

~Stop,~ Radiance said softly, once it was over. They did so, waiting and watching him. ~It's a trigger for you, the hand on your neck.~

~Yes,~ Prowl said. ~As much as I enjoy being dominated, even bound, it's a very difficult line to tread at times, so we often simply avoid it.~

Radiance nodded, and twisted to look at Jazz. ~But it's something you crave, that's why you did it to me first chance.~

Jazz murmured confirmation of that. ~The Ops work helps,~ he said. ~It takes the edge off.~

Radiance reached back and took his lover's hand, bringing it to his own throat, pressing down. ~Whenever you need,~ he said, as Jazz's optics widened. ~It doesn't bother me.~

~A good triad balances.~ Prowl purred deeply, excited to watch Jazz get off as he did when it was not a surprise.

Jazz shifted up, pulling Radiance onto his back as he swung a leg up and over his hips, straddling him, keeping his fingers curled around the offered neck. ~Even knowing why I grew to like this?~

~Even then,~ Radiance said.

Jazz released the hold and stretched out over him, kissing deeply, hungrily. When he finally lifted his head, Radiance turned to draw Prowl into his own kiss, and then watched with purring engines as Jazz did the same in turn.

~Balance,~ Radiance whispered, nuzzling them both.

~Balance, support, strength,~ Prowl purred. ~Ready to get a few insider tips on Engineer?~

~Engineer?~ Radiance repeated, trilling curiously as Jazz settled down over him, resting his helm on Radiance's chest.

~Engineer was good to us,~ Jazz said, while Prowl curled an arm around them both, cuddling close. They skimmed their way forward through their memories, moving up until Radiance was watching Prowl design a credit laundering system for an underworld boss, one that excelled in the sales of illegal weapons.

~You!~ Radiance gasped, stopping everything as he struggled to sit up, turning on Prowl, pushing his mate's shoulders down to the berth. ~_You_ are the reason imports from Simfur have gotten so-so-do you have _any_ idea how many processor aches Simfur imports have given me over the last half century?~ he demanded, though his field was light, playful, and more than that, _impressed_.

~I've listened to you complain,~ Prowl smiled uncertainly at the mix of field, words and history.

~Rant is more like it.~ Jazz chuckled. ~He really made that big a difference?~

~Oh yes,~ Radiance affirmed, and it was his turn to shift into a straddle over Prowl. ~Out of nowhere, the amount we were seizing from Simfur almost doubled, and what we were getting was going up in quality. That city has become notorious, they've even started routing imports in through other cities because they know we search everything coming in from that direction. You, my love, are a force to be reckoned with.~

Prowl looked up at the mech describing him, again, in terms he had great difficulty attributing to himself. He had no difficulty stating his skills, his qualities, and he took some pride in it, but for Prowl there was always a context that it was to serve another. He didn't understand how to process being the authority, only the agent charged with enforcing it.

~What do you want to do with that?~ Prowl glanced at both his mates, the hardline subglyphs giving them a forceful reminder that Prowl was a servant without a real master, and he wanted one.

Radiance exchanged a look with Jazz, then shook his head. ~_I_ don't want to do anything with it except admire and love you. I understand now why you don't have the kind of ambition mecha would expect from someone with your skill. You...~ He hesitated and looked back at Jazz for a moment. ~You already serve and provide, for Jazz, and now me. You've given us a beautiful place to live, you've kept Jazz safe and in energon, that's all I want.~

~You keep us happy,~ Jazz trilled and claimed a kiss that was eagerly returned.

Tension melted from Prowl's frame that none of them had noticed build up and he nodded, reaching up to caress Radiance's sides. ~We are a rather odd triad, each of us from three very different cultures.~

~We make it work,~ Radiance purred, armor loosening under the wandering fingers as his own came to rest on Prowl's chest, stroking over it. ~Even if I'd known it wouldn't have stopped me falling for you, both of you. You were so _bright_.~

Jazz smiled. ~Would you two like to finish anytime soon so we can give into this?~ He brushed his field against theirs, flickering with want for his mates that was readily returned.

Prowl chuckled lightly and reached over to cup Jazz's helm and pull him in for a kiss. ~Yes, my love.~ The memories picked up again, moving on to combat training with the muscle that had first approached Prowl, then the decision that they couldn't trust Engineer with keeping them safe against _him_ and the trip to Iacon disguised as a vacation. Plans, more killings to rebuild for the staged accident, and then something that Radiance had never witnessed, much less been through.

The warnings of the impending separation, Jazz's tense anxiety and Prowl's calm certainty, but there was more beneath that he wasn't letting his mate feel. Prowl knew that the situation was less than ideal, and there were complications with grounders carrying twins that even he couldn't predict, as rare as the phenomenon was.

~Hot,~ Radiance whispered, feeling the heat through the memory as easily as his lovers had while experiencing it. ~He's running _so_ hot.~

~The windows wouldn't open,~ Jazz sighed. ~What I would have given for cool air at that moment.~

Radiance nodded, focusing intently as armor shifted away and parted, watching and experiencing from both sides, and just the sight of a newly separated sparkling climbing up made creator coding _surge_ up.

Jazz shook his head and cut his memory stream off right before Sideswipe crawled up his chest, then backed away from Prowl's. ~I'm sorry, I don't want to see them like this.~

~I know,~ Prowl's mind caressed him gently, supporting his mate in this despite all the pain and trouble it had caused. He easily shielded Jazz from the replay, and from Radiance's responses to seeing the two tiny, bare, glistening protoforms emerging from Jazz's open abdomen. ~He loved them dearly when he could still feel them in his spark.~ Prowl explained. ~It was only after they emerged and he could no longer feel them that his fears overrode his creator code.~

~Sunstreaker's aggressive protectiveness of his twin,~ Radiance surmised. ~Too much like the spark sire's possessiveness towards anything he viewed as his. And the way Sideswipe fixated on flight frames.~

~Yes,~ Prowl murmured, looking at the memory through the very active creator protocols still running hot in his processors. The grief welled up again only to be put down, hard, as Radiance watched the hack in action for the first time from a hardline perspective. It was brutal in his opinion, harsher than it needed to be, but without contacts that could fix it there was little he could do other than try to keep the conditions that activated it from happening.

The separation ended, and then they were in Praxus getting their forged identities, and then the memory stream ended, Radiance already knowing about their lives after that point.

~Two vorns,~ Prowl murmured. ~All that in just over two vorns.~

Radiance shuddered, undeniably glad that it was over. ~_I_ have you now,~ he said, voice firm. ~All of that brought you here. My Jazz, my Prowl,~ he murmured, looking between them. ~And I still want you. Thank you for trusting me enough to show me who you are.~

Jazz reached up from where he was pressed alongside Prowl, running a thumb over his jawline. ~There were so many things we had to be sure of first. I don't think we ever set out expecting to find something like this, it was just too dangerous to let someone else in, in a world where he would pay beyond belief to have us back in his control.~

~I never thought I wanted a third, the coding wasn't even active in me yet,~ Prowl reached up to stroke Radiance's doorwings. ~But the way you treated Jazz when he was hurting, that he _liked_ the idea of playing with you. It happened so fast. Thank you for being patient, knowing we were hiding very important things and giving us the time to be sure we weren't going to risk everything to have you.~

~I'd have waited centuries, my loves,~ Radiance promised them, leaning in for a kiss as Jazz sat up, moving his fingers behind Prowl's, over panes and along seams, making Radiance shiver. ~I just thank Primus we were lucky enough to stumble into each other, past all the odds.~

Jazz smiled and shifted in behind Radiance, pressing flush against him, hands on hips and sliding pelvis against aft. ~All the rules of this world would have said this triad could never form,~ he said, and chuckled quietly. ~Showed them, I think.~

~Very much so,~ Prowl rumbled, hot and eager in response to Jazz's arousal. He offered up three images for them to consider, all of them positions they were eager for. ~So tell me, my loves, what appeals most?~

Radiance's entire frame gave a hard shiver when he saw and fixated on the first offered image, to the engine revving approval from his mates. The idea of both of them being inside him was intoxicating.

Jazz slid his hand down between their dark lover's legs, rubbing his fingers over the valve cover. ~Sure you can stretch like that?~ he purred. ~We don't want to hurt you.~

~I've never tried,~ Radiance admitted, the cover snapping open as he pressed into the touch. ~I trust you both.~

Prowl's ventilations picked up to the point where it was a solid motion of air. He leaned in to kiss Radiance hard as his fingers joined Jazz's in pressing into their lover. ~You are Praxian, built and sparked. You were designed to be with two. Relax, love, and let us indulge you. It is past time you were between us.~

Radiance nodded, giving himself up to their attention, whining just from the press of his mates' fingers inside him, feeling a surge of coding _bliss_ to bare himself to two. They moved carefully, slowly, playing their fingers off of each other to help stimulate and arouse, but not satisfy, not yet.

Prowl drew out first, then Jazz, who reached around their lover to run his hand up along his neck, up to his chin and then his mouth, pressing lubricant-slick fingers against his lips, purring deeply when Radiance drew his glossa along them, licking with a low moan. Jazz nudged his hips forward, his spike already hard between their frames, lining Radiance up with Prowl first.

Without hesitation Prowl helped lift Radiance up, bracing him between their frames before sinking into that welcoming valve with a long, single stroke that ended as he pulled back out and stopped with the tip of his spike just inside the rim.

Radiance's field flared with warm, welcome acceptance, and burned brighter with anticipation when Jazz rubbed his spike against him.

"Forward," Jazz murmured, guiding Radiance to lean further over Prowl, running his fingers down his back as he complied. Jazz shifted back and settled his hands on Radiance's hips, enjoying the view of his lovers' frames joined together for a moment before he nudged his spike up against Prowl's, then pushed, slowly, patient with the resistance but unrelenting with his pressure until without warning, he slipped in.

Radiance gasped and then moaned, unaccustomed to the stretch but reveling in the act of being joined with his triad like this.

"All right?" Jazz murmured, running soothing hands over hips and aft, though there was no hiding the strain in his voice from the effort it was taking to hold there.

"Yes!" Radiance keened, expressing the pleasure that was this stretch and fullness he'd never felt before.

~Amazing, isn't it?~ Prowl moaned across the hardline, his frame quivering with the effort to be still. ~How good the ache feels.~

Radiance managed some semblance of affirmative, which was all Jazz needed to grip the dark frame and rock forward, tossing his head back and shuddering as he sank in, feeling the texture of Prowl's spike and the gripping, quivering lining of Radiance's valve all at once. "Radiance!" he gasped, as between them, Radiance cried out, gripping Prowl's frame for stability.

"Loves. Radiance, Saxo." ~Jazz,~ Prowl moaned, trembling as hard as any of them. He kissed Radiance feverishly as he rocked down, pulling out while Jazz remained, then pressing in as Jazz pulled out. ~So good. So perfect. Thank you.~

~Love you,~ Radiance moaned, bliss flooding the hardline as all three of them felt the combined sensations coming from the other two, sliding easily together, slick and charged. ~_Primus!_~ he cried, almost sobbing from ecstasy. ~Primus blessed!~

Jazz shuddered and rocked, trying to keep his pace steady with the other two, struggling not to let go and just _drive_ until they were all screaming. ~Prowl,~ he moaned, feeling an overjoyed surge to be able to finally, _finally_ use his love's designation, not to have to hide it from their mate any longer. ~He's ours, _ours_ to have and love, Radiance, ours!~

~Yes. Triad. We are triad.~ Prowl replied, shuddering. His next thrust was faster, deeper, as he picked up on Jazz's desires and knowing that they matched all around. ~We are mates, all of us.~

Radiance's engines whined with need as the speed increased. ~All of us,~ he echoed, moaning, caught between the other two, subject to their pace and desire, trapped until they decided to release him from the tormenting bliss that this union was. ~Faster, take me, take me!~

~As you desire,~ Prowl moaned and obeyed, his spark and core code rewarding him with deep pleasure at obeying that was evident in every electron that passed between them. A joyful submission to another out of love and devotion was Prowl's offering. An offering that Radiance and Jazz both accepted with a matching pleasure at making him so happy.

The bliss of that gift flowed between them and claimed what little self-control any of them might have still possessed, pushing them to incoherent movement and ecstasy. Rocking together, panting, stroking, kissing, claiming, it took little, _so_ little for the triad to push themselves to the brink after that, not even a full groon.

Jazz lost himself first, the youngest, the least able to fully control his rising pleasure, and he shouted in warning just moments before overload crashed through him and his hips bucked forward involuntarily, breaking the rhythm they'd set between them, shooting into the tight heat of Radiance's valve and mixing charged transfluid with lubricant, his pleasure rushing over the hardline into the other two.

It was all either of the Praxians could take, not that either were inclined to resist. Prowl's roar echoed through the room as his hips drove up, adding his crackling transfluid into the mix and his overload bliss, as much emotional as physical, rushing into his lovers across the hardline.

Radiance screamed and seized between them, caught and surrounded by the crashing waves that rushed over, around, through. His fingers gripped tight enough to dent, with no awareness of his frame outside the absolute, unbelievable ecstasy that went spark-deep in a way he'd never thought possible.

When he finally came out of the white-out daze, vision flickering and vocalizer crackling with the leftover static, he couldn't do anything more than sob his joy against Prowl, overwhelmed with the perfection of a triad completed.

Behind him, he was dimly aware of Jazz moving and then pulling out, moving up. "Know his spark," his lover's voice murmured, low and eager.

"Are you sure?" Prowl asked, looking at his first mate.

Jazz nodded. ~I'll feel it through the hardline, be part of it that way.~

~Join us, open your chest,~ Prowl cooed. ~We may not be able to merge, but you can feel our sparks on your circuits.~

Jazz nodded with a shudder of _want_ and shifted to stretch out next to the other two, armor latches clicking open, plating moving back, and exposed the black crystal that surrounded his spark chamber and the warm blue spark caged by it.

Radiance recovered enough of himself in the pause to gasp when he saw it, and reached out, fingers hovering over the cage. ~May I touch?~

~Of course you can,~ Jazz said. ~I don't feel anything from the blocker, though.~

Radiance stroked over the complicated latticework. ~Your chamber can still open?~

Jazz tilted his head in affirmative and spiraled the center iris open in answer. Immediately blue leaders reached out, only to dissipate at the blocker, if they weren't turned back.

~It is beautiful, isn't it?~ Prowl rumbled in unabashed desire as he reached to stroke the crystal chamber where it was accessible. ~The chamber is so sensitive, and his spark loves to play with fingers.~

Jazz groaned, then _shook_ as Radiance's fingers followed Prowl's lead and slipped beneath the blocker, his spark eagerly sending out seeking tendrils to know the new touch of this mate. ~Wasn't...going to tell him that yet,~ he managed, voice cracking with static even over the hardline. ~I'll overload again if you keep that up!~ he gasped when Prowl moved his fingers into the spark energy alongside Radiance.

~And this is a bad thing, how?~ Prowl's tone was full of lust that had nothing to do with physical desire. ~You are so amazing in pleasure. We'll wait for you to recover before we explore our sparks.~

~So vibrant,~ Radiance whispered, knowing with even just this small touch that he wasn't going to stop working until he could fully have his lover's spark, and Jazz's overbright, pleasure-hazed optics found the golden visor, lost in it.

He whined softly, overwhelmed and with fans straining at full speed to keep up with the pleasure-hot systems. Vents became staggered and his spark surged and pulsed, pushing against the constraints, touching as much of its lovers as it could. Very carefully, Radiance lifted himself up and guided Jazz fully onto his back, moving the quivering frame as slowly as he could, shifting over him, leaving room for Prowl to claim him in a kiss.

Their fingers swirled, touched, crooked, and the rapidly building charge _snapped_ and Jazz sobbed his bliss, spark energy swirling and crashing against the barrier, an overload that left him panting and trembling and barely holding onto his senses when it crackled out.

~Amazing,~ Radiance's whisper was the first thing that penetrated Jazz's consciousness as he came around enough.

~I know. That is what I have been bound to for as long as it has existed.~ Despite the servitude of the words and tone, across the hardline there was no questioning that it made Prowl's very spark sing to say it. ~One orn, his spark will be free again.~

~And it will join yours,~ Jazz finally managed, shaking off the daze. ~Form the bonds that always should have been.~ He pushed himself up, iris spiraled shut again, but chest remaining open, and pressed a kiss against Prowl's mouth. ~Know each other, let me witness.~

~Yes, my love,~ Prowl responded to them both, kissing Jazz before turning to spread his chest plates open, bathing them in the pale blue light of his spark, offering himself without reservation to the mechs he had claimed as triad. ~Radiance, be one with me.~

Jazz purred at the familiar sight, stretching out on his side and resting his head on Prowl's shoulder, leaving one hand free to touch and stroke, while Radiance moved over their lover, dark fingers hovering over the offered chamber, optics bright with awe.

~Gladly, willingly,~ Radiance whispered, chest armor unlocking and retracting, pulling away to reveal rich, golden light and a bright, shimmering crystal chamber and spark, one that was already pulsing to push forward and feel the touch of the other.

~Prowl,~ Jazz gasped in awe, unable to keep himself from reaching forward towards the light as they looked at their mate together.

~Exquisite,~ Prowl shivered as he looked at the spark. Suddenly his vents caught and he reached up to hold Radiance at his shoulders, keeping him away. ~Oh lover, such a strong spark. Please, don't agree to kindle. Not this time.~

Flickers of curiosity were met with the simple truth that for Prowl, a spark merge meant he was being bred. It had not been since his first lover that he'd merged for pleasure, and even that had not been often.

~Not this time,~ Radiance agreed easily with the experience of one who had only ever merged for pleasure. ~Or even soon. I'm not ready for that. _We're_ not ready for that.~ He looked to Jazz. ~When we kindle, it will be all of us, and all of us will want it, and not until.~

Prowl nodded, relief clear in his field and hardline. His grip eased on Radiance, shifting to allow him to control the merge that Prowl wanted just as badly.

Radiance took a slow, deep intake, working to steady himself as much as he could, before lowering down, the first seeking tendrils of light creeping forward to brush against their mirrors from Prowl's, the lights twirling and playing together, eager to touch, to feel, to _be_ together.

The closer he sank, the more feeders came out, each one finding another and twisting together, drawing the sparks closer. It took all Radiance's control to keep himself as far away as he was, pausing once he was on his elbows, a hand's width separating their open chests.

"Want-want to feel this as just you," Radiance managed, reaching to unhook the hardline between them, leaving them each connected to Jazz but not to each other. Once the cable was tucked away, he released the fraying control he had over his spark and it surged forward, faster than intended, pressing against Prowl as Radiance sank down fully, crying out. Under him Prowl arched into the contact, willing and eager, but also a conditioned response. Radiance caught how easily Prowl accepted the rushed final stage, welcoming him, offering to carry his creation with an honest desire.

~No, my love, that would not do for us right now,~ he whispered. ~Some orn, you will be our Vision, we will fill you with life, but not this orn. Want your pleasure, want to _know_ you, nothing more.~

The ice blue spark gave a flicker of confusion before embracing the declaration just as willingly. Prowl shivered and cautiously opened himself a bit more, uncertain with this kind of merge but willing, so very willing to learn. Prowl shivered and moaned, his frame on fire from the spark-on-spark contact.

Radiance moaned in turn, opening himself fully, inviting the naturally curious essence he had come to love so much to explore his very being. Distantly, he heard his armor locking as safety protocols engaged, could feel a hand stroking up and down along burning hot plating, but the presence before him was _enthralling_ in every way possible, a spark he wanted both to own and be owned by, to love, to live, to _be_ with. ~Prowl,~ he whispered, sang, _feeling_ the glyph of his lover's designation echoed all around him.

~Radiance,~ came the reply. Sung in a rougher voice, but with no less absolute devotion. ~Yours. Mine. His. We.~

More slowly Prowl opened up, offering himself as his essence swirled around Radiance. Despite the intense subservience bred into his spark, there was a predator there too, deep and quiet, roused only to protect itself and its wards. Radiance recognized it instantly from the memories. That predator was what Vortex had faced and failed against. It knew how to consume and command, yet like the upper levels, it was also content to remain within its domain, only rising when it was challenged by one without the authority to do so. It was a predator that Radiance both respected and was humbled by, and once he realized that this was the part of Prowl that had deemed him trustworthy, his spark pulsed with joy and gratitude.

His own spark felt shallow compared to that depth for a moment, until Prowl moved forward, touching every part of him, glimpsing everything he was. Predator and servant twined with him, purring, proud and deeply honored to be his. His spark was investigated, every corner of it mingling with Prowl as it was met with approval.

Prowl's memories opened up to him, the older ones from his youth. Formative vorns and moments that shaped him into the mech he was now. His first interface, being taken by a group of young nobles. The acceptance that this was within their rights and thus nothing to object to. His first love, a mech Radiance had only heard a bit about before now had a face and frame to go with that designation. Gentle touches, gentle words, but the moment that stood out for Radiance had been one of limited importance to Prowl. One of the first things Susurrus had told the young seneschal in training.

"Then this will be your first lesson. We are created, thus we must end. If you love, the last memory you will have is pain."

Prowl had only understood in an abstract way then. He knew about death, knew that lives began and ended, but he had not yet lost one he cared about. Susurrus left him with good memories, and left him with a deep, numbing pain that had lasted for centuries before it finally leveled out and Prowl looked at others as potential berthmates, but never another lover. He wasn't avoiding pain. Even then he had little care about it. Not even his own creations, three of them, could muster any emotions from him while they were inside him and he nurtured them. He simply did not have the fire needed to _love_ again until he saw the newly separated Lord Jazz.

Radiance smiled through their joined awareness, grateful for the gift he was being given, and offered much the same in return, a life so different from the one Prowl had known as to be almost impossible to imagine, showing the experiences of a sparkling with no directive coding, built to be _free_, even from what his creators had chosen.

Prowl saw joy and love and excitement for the mystery of the future, first in an adventurous youngling and then in an enthusiastic mechling who gave everything he was to a first lover, a schoolmate who hadn't given anything in return and had left Radiance confused and broken, a first lesson but not enough of a deterrent to stop the same from happening again and again throughout the mech's life.

Radiance gave all of himself to a lover, even when he knew it wasn't going to be returned. He was beautiful, and he knew that, and had been seriously courted more than once over the centuries, only for his partners to lose patience with his work. One mech, Nimbus, had enthralled him, and Radiance had courted him instead, almost tearing himself in two in order to please his partner and do the work he loved so much, but in the end, that lover, too, had left.

~Never again. Never again will you give to have nothing given back. Never again will you be turned away from because your love your work,~ Prowl promised with his entire spark, a trait he shared with Radiance. He gave his all when he gave, and did so without shame or regret. Only Prowl gave rarely, guarding himself well until his spark had enough of it and found love again. ~We are triad, my love. We three are balance.~

The glyphs, spoken spark to spark, made Radiance's spark swell as he shared a final bit of memory. The last thing he'd expected that orn, going upstairs to meet a pair of sparklings after refusing courtship after courtship with no plans to try again, was to walk right into a captivating, bright, mated pair, and be unable to walk away ever again.

~You are the bright one,~ Prowl wrapped Radiance spark with his own, joyful, honored and humbled to be found worthy. ~Unscarred, unbroken, still as you were meant to be. You remind us that there is something beyond survival, that hope should be held onto not as a leash but as a gift.~

~You show me that there is strength, and goodness, that can overcome the darkest Pits, that being hurt does not mean being broken, that it is still possible to find love in this world,~ Radiance's spark whispered back, swirling around Prowl's, touching the scars and accepting them, seeing that they had made this spark stronger. ~You've shown me there is a reason to hope for the future, to keep giving.~

~Love you.~ Prowl shivered, loosing his grip on keeping the merge steady enough to converse. It felt so good to simply sink into and abandon himself within.

~Let go, love, my love, our Jazz wants us to take this joy in each other,~ Radiance trilled, singing his bliss in the golden light, painting the taste of ecstasy where it met with bright, pale blue. ~_I love you!_~ he cried, ancient glyphs known spark-deep, given only to triad, only to mate, and light consumed them as they both surrendered to ecstasy that was a merge with a mecha you loved.

Both their frames were trembling, shivering with the fading sensations as their sparks pulled apart, retreating to their respective homes reluctantly after a taste of what could be, would be when _he_ was no more.

Jazz was shivering next to them, pressed alongside Prowl, panting from the overload that had been triggered by the dual surge of spark energy from his mates' chests washing through his own systems. ~Some orn,~ he whispered. ~Thank you for letting me witness and feel.~

Radiance came back to himself enough to nod, and lifted himself just enough for chest armor to close before collapsing back down on top of Prowl. ~Anything,~ he murmured, exhausted. ~How much could you...~

~A little, I think,~ Jazz said. ~I could hear you.~

Radiance just nodded again. "Triad," he murmured, snuggling against his lover's warm frame as all three settled in to cycle into much needed recharge.


	32. His Creator's Triad

Starcrossed 32: His Creator's Triad  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Radiance watched from where he was reclining on the berth as Jazz came out of the washrack, shining after a polish rinse, and looked on with some bemusement as his mate started going over himself, examining down to the finest details of his armor. Prowl came upstairs a moment later and smiled when he saw their youngest mate.

"I tried to tell him he really doesn't need to worry about his armor, but..." Radiance shrugged.

Jazz chuckled and lifted his doorwings up, looking at Prowl. "Help me? I'm not used to preparing these."

"Of course," Prowl said smoothly and gave Radiance a smile. "Your creators may not care, but _he_ does, and I understand the importance," Prowl flicked his own doorwings, drawing attention to the fact that he'd taken much more time than usual with his own finish.

"They're just my creators," Radiance said, but wasn't hiding that he appreciated the results, no matter what the reason for it. He looked down at himself, glancing over his own utilitarian finish. "Maybe I should wash."

"You have time," Prowl told him. "We are going to meet the creators of our triad-mate for the first time. There will never be a more important encounter between us, love. Even if we can not admit what we are in public, _we_ know, and we would make the best impression on them possible."

"Perfect finish, proper manners, gifts and all," Jazz said firmly, a level of determination that was rarely displayed. "I do not care if they even understand the gestures. It is important to make them."

"Some things are simply going to be how they are done, how they have always been done, in the place that raised us," Prowl added, somber in tone but excited in field. He very much enjoyed seeing Jazz like this, excited to socialize and getting to show off a little of what he'd been bred to be.

Radiance hummed, stretched, and stood. "Since I feel like I need to be clean before I can even touch either of you without ruining your finish," he chuckled, and started for the washrack, then paused when Jazz crooked a finger at him, drawing him over.

"Kiss, lover," he purred, field humming in honest anticipation of getting to meet his mate's creators.

Radiance gladly obliged him, then straightened to claim a kiss from Prowl that came with a hand cupping the back of his neck to hold him there a bit longer in the flare of arousal, desire and nervous excitement.

"Should have seen me when I had gold inlaid in my armor," Jazz hummed, holding his arm out and examining his fingers.

"I prefer the doorwings," Radiance told him, nuzzling.

"One orn they will see both, the best of your original frame and this one," Prowl rumbled, anticipating that orn very much.

"Is there anything I should know, how to act?" Radiance asked as it really began to sink in just how close this came to a ritual for his lovers.

"You should act how you always act around us," Jazz said. "The point is for them to see how and why I-we-are a good match for you, and why they should accept a contract between us." He paused. "Or, well, why they should approve, in this instance."

"Don't worry, they're going to approve," Radiance said, and almost grimaced when he remembered the excitement that had greeted his casual mention that he would be bringing the lovers he'd told them about some 70 vorns prior over for them to meet, even though it was still more than two decades from being able to admit to anything in public.

"And we will keep glyphs such as contract out of the conversation," Prowl added. "Get yourself cleaned up and we'll polish you to a suitable shine to show off our care of you."

Radiance cocked his head, not having thought of it like that before. "It's demonstrating why you are the best choice, why they should give their creation away to you."

"Yes," Jazz affirmed. "Normally a first creation would be the one bargaining for a second, putting in credit offers while also winning the approval of both creators and creation. Each family decides differently, some place more value in the net credit gain, others take a creation's satisfaction with a choice more seriously." He reached a hand up to cover Prowl's. "Since your creators won't be wanting credits for you, we need to show that we increase the quality of your life."

"That will be no trouble to show," Radiance said, kissed him once more, and then left them to wash as quickly as he could before sitting for his mates to polish him thoroughly, getting each of them pounced before it was all over.

When they finally left, still with enough time to spare that Radiance suspected Prowl had actually planned to have enough time for the impromptu tumble into their berth and the following cleaning and repolishing, his armor was gleaming and perfect.

"Well, here we are," Radiance said as he transformed in front of the complex his creators called home. It was nicer than the one that Jazz and Prowl had originally lived in, but nothing compared to where they lived now thanks to Prowl's skill at investments. Both Prowl and Radiance had already grown accustomed to the intense audits of their finances since the couple was living so clearly outside their income and Radiance because of his close association with them. A small grin crossed Radiance's features remembering the first time he'd seen the auditor's face at Prowl's easy presentation of the finances, accounting for every credit and every credit originating clearly within his income. It baffled the auditor to see such good records and even though it created more suspicion to have it that flawless, it tapered off quickly when they began to investigate the rest of Prowl's existence and found that everything he did was to that exacting standard.

Jazz gave a nervous trill, soothed by a low rumble from Prowl, and settled himself into character. It wasn't much of an act, but the playful, lust-driven youth Radiance knew so well took a back seat to the more serious, poised and presentable adult he also was.

"You two are going to make _me_ nervous," Radiance teased, chiming, bracing himself for the inevitable chastising, but before it could come, the door opened and a femme in Enforcer markings with bright blue optics and pastel trimming bounded out, trilling happily and pulling Radiance into a tight hug.

"Hello, sweetspark," she said, then pulled back to look at him, gasping happily. "You look beautiful!" Behind her, two other Praxians looked out the door.

"Someone did some good work on your finish," the other femme, black with gold and red trim and matching Enforcer markings to the one clinging to Radiance, observed. "Come in and introduced them."

"Hello, Radiance," said the third, giving his creation a warm smile as everyone entered, Jazz and Prowl walking at the back of the group. He gave his creation a one-armed hug, then glanced back at the newcomers. "It took you long enough to get them here," he teased gently.

"I had to be sure Brava wouldn't scare them away," Radiance teased back as they all entered the building and took a lift up to the apartment home he'd been raised in.

They entered a sitting room and the first femme came up, beaming. "I'm so glad you could both make it," she said, looking between them. "Believe me when I say I know the nightmare that scheduling around your work can be."

"Saxo, Pantera, this is Mira," Radiance said, gesturing to each of his mates as he named them, introducing them in turn.

"It is a pleasure," Jazz said warmly, and then looked to the other two creators. "You must be Contact and Brava," he said, identifying them correctly.

The black femme nodded with a bit of a huff, and Mira simply beamed and fussed until everyone sat down, each triad on a sofa designed for three. Light high grade and confections were passed around, the first course of many that Mira and Contact had spent orns putting together.

"I understand you've done very well investing." Brava's gaze locked onto Prowl. "More than well enough you'd be better off investing than working."

"If credits were my focus, it is true," Prowl consented smoothly. "I am not an Enforcer for the paycheck. It suits me too well to give up."

"Don't interrogate the mech," Contact said, smiling fondly, then caught Mira's hand as she started to rise to get another plate. "Sit down and relax," he trilled to her.

"I'll just be right back," she insisted.

"Mira," Radiance said, standing. "What do you want me to get?"

"There's a refill for the silver spread," she said, relaxing against Brava. "Thank you!" she called after him as he disappeared, then looked back to Jazz. "Radiance tells us you aren't Praxian, do you like it here?"

"I love everything about Praxus," Jazz said, and grinned. "Especially the mecha. Your creation is one of the loveliest I've ever met."

"We are very proud of him," Contact said, while Mira smiled brightly.

"You have every reason to be," Prowl spoke with the honesty of holding the opinion true. "He is an excellent officer and a very good example of the best in a mecha. You raised him well."

"_You_ are flattering me," Radiance said, reappearing and setting the bowl down where they could all reach, then sat back down between his mates. "Stop that, it's my turn to show you off for a while, they already know about me." He slipped an arm around Prowl's waist. "He gets regularly audited because of his investment success," he said proudly. "And Saxo is one of the youngest agents in all of SpecOps."

"You enjoy that work?" Contact asked Jazz.

Jazz nodded, leaning forward slightly. "I'm good at it, and I've never hidden what I do from Pantera or Radiance."

"Never needed to," Radiance nuzzled him, earning a low purr from Jazz and an indulgently pleased smile from Prowl.

"So will there be a triad ceremony in our near future?" Brava asked bluntly after a moment.

"As soon as it is socially acceptable," Prowl nodded, going as serious as she had. "We're only standing on formalities at this point."

Brava raised an optic ridge. "Only on formalities?"

"We are not bonded yet," Prowl corrected himself.

Mira gasped excitedly, and only Contact's arm around her kept her from bouncing up to her pedes.

"Radiance," Contact chastised. "I distinctly remember telling you to keep us all updated, and believe I remember you saying you would."

"I intended to," Radiance said, looking properly apologetic, then leaned over to nuzzle Prowl. "We really were intending to take our time, but...well. That didn't go exactly as planned."

"Sometimes things happen when they are ready, rather when society or you are," Prowl leaned into the contact. "I expect he wanted you to meet us first."

"I would hope so," Contact said, giving his creation a fond look.

"Absolutely," Radiance promised them.

"And he looks very well, I have you both to thank for that, I believe," the dispatcher added. "I haven't seen him smiling this much in centuries."

"A crime that was to be rectified as soon as possible," Jazz said. "We plan to spend the rest of our lives making him smile."

"Well, not _all_ of it," Prowl rumbled with a look for Radiance that left no doubt as to what he meant.

Brava smirked. "Good."

"Though he's usually smiling when we're done with him," Jazz purred, making their dark mate lift a hand to cover his smirk, his shoulders shaking in a chuckle.

"So when will there be little ones running around to spoil?" Mira asked excitedly.

"Not until we're ready," Jazz said, turning serious. "I'm going to be completely honest with you about who your creation has mated with, if he hasn't already told you."

"Your first sparklings," Contact said, nodding. "He's mentioned it."

"We _do_ want creations," Jazz assured them. "But not yet, we all think it's best that I be older, likely much older, before that happens."

Mira trilled. "It's always best to be ready for sparklings," she agreed with a nostalgic look for memories of when they'd first brought Radiance home.

"Agreed," Prowl nodded. "They deserve a stable triad who's ready to devote all the time and energy to them that they deserve."

"You've discussed it though?" Brava persisted.

"I want to carry again," Prowl answered her before she could even ask. "So at least the first will be kindled."

"I would love to kindle," Contact said wistfully, visor brightening.

"Some orn, darling," Brava purred. "We'll get you good and sparked."

Mira trilled brightly in agreement. "It's tricky with work schedules, I expect you've already realized that."

"We're going to make sure we have the time to spend caring for him," Radiance said. "Finances won't be an issue. But that's so long from now, right now we're just looking forward to putting the courtship forms through."

"It will not be soon enough for me," Prowl rumbled, his engine purring with anticipation. "I'm looking forward to when he can actually move in with us, instead of being a permanent guest." He leaned against his lover. "I'm still trying to convince them that taking a three century leave of absence isn't insane when we're ready for a creation."

"Three centuries," Contact said, both optics ridges raising as his wings perked. "That would be quite the dedicated undertaking."

"It isn't as if we need the income, and what better a use of our time than to raise our creation?" Prowl purred, anticipating the event, even if he was the only one that took time off. "It is a long time from now, however."

"Pantera doesn't give himself halfway to anything," Radiance explained. "It's all or nothing." He smiled fondly at his mate. "In everything he does."

"As long as that applies to Radiance as well, I think we will get along," Brava said, offering Prowl her first smile.

"I would love to see the rest of your home," Jazz said, judging the timing of Radiance's creators' high grade to voice that request, focusing specifically on Mira. "I know Radiance had to learn his sense of aesthetics from someone, judging from what I've seen so far it was definitely one of you."

Mira perked happily. "His place is gorgeous, isn't it?" She offered Jazz a wink. "I gave him a few pointers."

"It shows," Jazz purred, rising, holding a hand out for her.

When they'd disappeared into the main hallway, Brava leaned forward and locked the remaining pair with her hardwired visor. "How stable is he, really?"

"Stable enough to do the Ops work," Radiance said, equally serious. "And you know the kind of standards they hold those mecha to. I won't lie, he wouldn't be okay without us, but unless the unthinkable happens, that's never going to be a problem. And that's the point of triad, isn't it?"

"It is," Brava nodded.

"Is he realistically going to be able to have another creation?" Contact asked softly.

"Not soon," Prowl responded, voice low. "However in a millennia he will be three times his current age and what happened to him before we were together will be very long past. We hope that time and care will heal the damage done to him."

"And you?" the mech asked. "Radiance warned us it wasn't a good topic around Saxo, but how are you doing after what happened in Polyhex? I know I wouldn't have been okay if something happened to Radiance."

"I am coping. The active hunt may have ended for us, but we haven't stopped looking," Prowl said the truth smoothly woven with a lie so he wouldn't have to explain his fragged creator coding. "So no, I'm not okay, but I will be before Saxo is ready to try again."

"I know it hardly means anything to say, but I'm so sorry for what you've been through," Contact said, then noticeably forced himself to brighten. "But I'm sure that isn't what you want to talk about, and I want to hear about _you_. Tell me," he leaned forward, doorwings showing how excited he was, "Has the triad coding activated?"

"Vorns ago," Prowl smiled warmly and pressed against Radiance with unabashed pleasure. "It's strong and stable in all three of us now. Saxo choose to have it installed and has taken to it beautifully. I never believed anything could feel that good. I'm fairly sure I was delirious with it the first few orns."

"Possibly more than that," Radiance teased him, humming happily at the memories.

"I remember those orns," Contact chuckled, looking at Brava, whose engines purred back to him. "At least, I have memories that I assume were during those orns, it got difficult to keep track of."

"You are still planning to go through the full formal courting, though?" Brava questioned.

"Absolutely," Radiance told her. "We always planned to do this the right way, it's just the order that's gotten a bit mixed up."

"Though I admit it will make the courting much more pleasant with this order. We all know it is going to end well. Much less stressful and much more enjoyable for all of us," Prowl added with a bit of a dreamy look himself before he turned his helm to claim a strut-melting kiss from his newest mate. "We can all enjoy the courting fully."

Radiance's engines revved unabashedly as he pressed Prowl back, then pulled away, grinning, and then saw the knowing smirks on his creators' faces. "What?" he asked, laughing. "As if you three were never this bad."

"Didn't say a thing," Contact chuckled. "I'm glad you won't have to go through the stress of a real courtship again," he added, turning serious. "It was hard to watch you going through those, sweet spark."

Brava hummed in agreement, then turned all of her intense focus on Prowl. "Though let me make a few things clear to you," she began.

"Brava," Radiance protested, then silenced after just one look from her.

She held her creation with a stare until she was sure he wasn't going to interrupt before turning that look back on Prowl. "I'm sure you've realized that Radiance throws himself completely into everything he does, whether it deserves it or not," she said. "And in the past, others have not accepted this about him and expected him to be less than what he is for their pleasure. I'm telling you now, I will not tolerate that from anyone."

"I have realized and it is a trait that I admire a great deal. Absolute commitment is too rare these orns," Prowl met her gaze with his own, steady and level. "I _trust_ him, Brava. With Saxo, with my creations, with my spark. I have never left any mecha I loved enough to _trust_ and I never will." He paused, cycled a gust of air and gave her a slight smile. "You are a good creator for caring enough to challenge me. I love him _because_ of his commitment, not in spite of it. All three of us have functions that demand a great deal of our time and energy. We have found a balance and understanding of each other in it."

Brava tilted her head slightly, then nodded her satisfaction and settled back, Contact sliding an arm around her shoulders and giving her a lovingly exasperated look.

"You were thinking it too," she told him, a little smugly.

"I-well, I, yes," Contact admitted. "But I wasn't going to put it quite so..." He cleared his vocalizer out and leaned in to kiss his mate. "I do love you."

Brava grinned against him before they both turned back to the pair sitting opposite. "You've spark merged, then?" Contact asked, voice soft.

Radiance hummed in affirmative, armor rippling with pleasure in the memories.

"Several times now," Prowl nodded. "Always with the three of us."

"The most amazing feeling, isn't it?" Contact said, visor glowing warmly as he looked at his creation. "A triad merge."

"It is," Radiance said, smiling just as warmly back. "I can see why you wanted me to find one."

"And we're just so happy for you that you have," Contact said, trilling with real excitement for his creation. "All of us. And for you and Saxo," he added for Prowl. "You should hear Mira go on about it."

"She is very excitable," Brava chuckled, then looked at Prowl. "So tell us what you did before you met Saxo. Radiance said you've traveled all over the planet? Investing?"

"Investments were something I did on my own. I was a personal assistant of sorts. I organized events, personnel management, ensured my employers did not have to concern themselves with whatever I was charged with overseeing," Prowl nodded. "It was good, until I made the wrong enemies and had to find a new existence. Though that lead me to Saxo, and then Radiance, so I can't really complain about bad luck."

"I would hope not," Brava said, then both she and Contact looked up as the sound of laughter echoed in from the main hallway moments before Jazz and Mira came back in, both of them grinning.

"Radiance!" Mira said. "I demand to know why you haven't brought your mates home until now!"

"Weren't you _just_ saying that you know what it's like trying to plan around Enforcer schedules?" Radiance countered. "It's hard enough getting part of an orn together, much less trying to match up with you three."

"Less time 'facing, more time visiting," she grinned at him, as Jazz unsuccessfully held a hand up to hide his own grin behind her. "Your mate is charming."

"He is also ours," Radiance rumbled, but the tone was playful. "You can't have him no matter how charming he is."

Jazz flashed him a grin to rival Mira's. "There's enough to share."

"You'd know that better than anyone," Mira teased, and Radiance could only chuckle and nod.

"You seriously want me to try to tell _him_ we're going to 'face less?" Prowl raised an optic ridge at her, both serious and teasing all at once. "You only find him charming because he's well-satisfied."

"I can be sociable when I'm not well-satisfied," Jazz said, mock-insulted as he sat back down next to Radiance.

"Mira, darling, you remember what it's like being a new triad," Contact chuckled, welcoming his mate back next to him with a fond nuzzle.

"And you are the _least_ sociable creature I have ever met when you're not well-satisfied," Radiance told Jazz, who just grinned and pulled him into a kiss.

"Your creator was telling me about you stealing the neighbor's cybercat when you were a sparkling and trying to hide it under your berth," Jazz said, and gave his mate a positively wicked look.

"Primus, Mira, you did _not_-" Radiance said, as his creators all started grinning.

"Oh, and he tried to convince us he was the one making those sounds!" Brava said, laughing.

"Whatever prompted such illegal behavior?" Prowl tried to keep a straight face and failed miserably.

Radiance huffed. "They told me I could see their cybercat anytime I wanted, which _I_ still think counts as a blank offer to bring it home with me, because how else was I supposed to see it anytime I wanted? What if they hadn't been at home and I wanted to visit? It was a logical answer."

Mira giggled. "Only, poor thing, he was scared to get in trouble once we asked him if he knew anything..."

"I was _going_ to return it," Radiance said. "It just started _yowling_ on me!"

"So which one did you inherit the love of critters from?" Jazz managed between giggles.

Brava and Contact both looked directly at Mira.

"What?" Mira gasped with playful indignation. "I've only brought home a few..."

"Dozen," Brava filled in.

"We had to make a rule about bringing home strays," Contact added for Jazz and Prowl.

"You don't have any right now?" Radiance asked, looking around like he'd suddenly realized there was something missing.

"I found a home for the last one a few metacycles ago," Mira said proudly.

"Do you have any other good sparkling stories?" Jazz asked.

"Well, there was his first encounter with racing," Brava chuckled, grinning when her creation groaned. "Two metacycles into his mechling upgrades he decided he was ready for the mech tracks, rules or no rules."

"And how did that go?" Jazz asked her, ignoring the sideways shove he got from his mate.

"I made very good friends with some of the other creators while they were sorting the mess out," Mira said brightly.

"Darling, you make friends with everyone," Contact said.

"I crashed, okay?" Radiance groaned at the memory of it. "I got in the track, got in a race, and proceeded to create a pile-up. It was only when the medics were untangling everyone that they weren't out I was still a dependent and called my creators. You have _no_ idea the kind of scene three Enforcers make when they think their only creation is about to deactivate."

"You've gotten much better," Prowl cooed.

"Got blacklisted from every track in Praxus for two centuries," Radiance muttered.

"Oh, or there's the time in school when he decided he needed to be the one making sure that everyone followed all the rules," Mira giggled.

"The instructors were not doing a good job of it on their own," Radiance pointed out, holding his hand over his face, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"I couldn't laugh too much, he got a little scuffed up for it," Contact said, but he was still chuckling.

"I could," Brava snickered. "He was being a bossy little thing, I woulda beat 'im up too."

"Brava!" Mira and Radiance gasped.

"He never stopped wanting to make sure everyone was following the rules," Jazz said fondly.

After that, Radiance banned the further telling of stories from his youth, Jazz promised to drop by sometime to hear them without his stuffy mates, Mira brought out the main dinner course, and the two triads relaxed into easy, amiable conversation until it got late enough that everyone agreed it was time to call it a night, and Radiance agreed to bring his triad back soon.

On the way to the door, as everyone gathered to say goodbye, Radiance slipped a hand onto the small of Jazz's back and faced his creators. "So you approve?" he asked.

"Yes," Mira said brightly, while Contact nodded.

"You're good enough. Just stay that way," Brava said sternly.

"We will," Prowl promised in reply, his field brightening with pleasure at the approval, even though he wasn't the one that needed to hear it the most.

Jazz all but trilled his happiness to have succeeded in gaining his mate's creators' favor, doorwings lifting in pleasure and flickering gratitude into his field where it was pressed against Radiance's. He thanked Mira and Contact for the dinner, all three of them for opening up their home, and promised once more that he would visit soon.

The door closed and the triad started walking to the road, Jazz leaning blissfully against his mate, purring and with an overcharged buzz. "I like your creators."

"As do I," Prowl leaned in from the other side. "They are good mecha."

"I'm glad," Radiance said honestly, smiling through his field. "And they liked you. I know they'll be happy to see you whenever you visit. Are you good to drive?" he teased Jazz. "Or do I need to call for an escort?"

"Like you? Lover, if you're worried, you could always overload me a few times, that would clear it out," Jazz purred, then straightened and spoke more seriously. "But I am good to drive."

"How much trouble can he get into between us?" Prowl purred, trapping Jazz between their frames and stilling them all for a moment. "If he starts to weave, we'll just get a room for a few joors to burn off the extra."

"I am not going to start to weave," Jazz said, rolling his optics.

"I think we will decide that," Radiance said, nipping at Jazz's neck as he and Prowl moved in around him.

"I want you two in _our_ berth," Jazz said. "Don't you dare think about stopping along the way." He rubbed his hips against both of them. "I just got my mate's creators' approval, I want to celebrate properly."

"As do we," Prowl promised as he stepped into the transformation lane and led his mates home.


	33. Courting in Praxus: Giving Gifts

Starcrossed 33: Courting in Praxus: Giving Gifts  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A century to the orn after he claimed to have bonded with Jazz, Prowl walked into the precinct bullpen and paused, catching far too many quivering doorwings and officers than should have been there, all pretending to work. It was Mortar that kept his attention the longest, and Prowl gave him a look that bordered on demanding. Mortar pretended to look affronted and innocent at the same time, a mixture of expressions that left the large Praxian simply looking like he was trying not to laugh. "What?" he rumbled. "I enjoy a change of scenery as much as the next mech."

"Right," Prowl gave him one last penetrating look before moving on to his desk and the absolutely _fluttering_ doorwings of his partner. "Fevor. Explain," he demanded evenly as he sat down and began to take an inventory of his desk, immediately spotting the out of place object.

It was perfectly centered, equidistant to the micron from either side, a metallic dodecahedron with etchings and glyphs covering every surface, and several lines of a poem written on the top surface, with more on the sides.

It was a classic love song, one that Radiance had a particular fondness of, but it was completely out of order. On pure instinct Prowl began to move the slides of metal so the poem could be read correctly.

"That was here when I got here," Fevor said, nodding towards Prowl's hands as everyone else stopped the pretense of trying not to stare, and Mortar even took a few steps closer to look over Prowl's shoulder.

"Night shift says they swear they didn't see anyone in here," the precinct chief commented, leaning in. "What's it do?"

"If it is what it appears to be, it is a written puzzle box. Once the lines are in order, it will open to display what is inside," Prowl explained with a tone just shy of mushy.

"D'you know who it's from?" one of the newest Enforcers, a young mech who wasn't familiar with all of the force yet, asked excitedly. "It's a gift, right?"

"A courting gift," Prowl confirmed, his doorwings giving a genuine flutter of pleasure as the box unfolded, then refolded so the poem was still on display while exposing the small holo-display inside. It lit up with the most artistic representation of Pantera's designation-glyph that Prowl had ever seen, entwined with glyphs of admiration, attraction, desire and many more.

Mortar's engines gave a pleased rumble. "Admirable," he decided. "That is good craftsmanship."

Fevor grinned at his partner from across their shared workspace. "Finally," he said, to chuckles of agreement all over the room. "Anything else with it?"

"No, no indication of who it is from," Prowl managed to keep a straight face. "Someone is trying to get my attention, and has succeeded." He shifted the object towards the middle of the desk between him and his partner where it was the least in the way of their work, but still easily visible and pointedly on display, indicating his acceptance of further courting gifts.

Mortar clapped Prowl on the shoulder, shaking him a little. "_Someone_ is going to be a very happy mech to see that," he said, then, chuckling, left to get back to his own work.

Fevor was giving Prowl a knowing look as he settled in to start on reviewing the overnight reports that had been left on his desk. "So you're all finally getting around to doing this properly?"

"This is the first orn we are available for it," Prowl reminded him as he began to read the pre-patrol reports. "I've been bonded to Saxo one hundred vorns to the orn."

"Wonder what Saxo'll get," Fevor mused, then settled in to reluctantly start on his own pile of reports.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

Jazz walked into the main hub of the Praxus Ops facility to get his assignments, then stopped and raised an optic ridge when he found Whiplash inside waiting for him. His commander usually didn't show up at the start of an orn like this. "Hello," he greeted mildly.

The small, lithe black mech huffed at him and held out the datapad with his schedule. "Good morning to you too. You're on rooms 29, 50, and 52. Get an answer from 29 or leave him alive, be gentle to 50 but scare the coolant out of him, and for 52 I don't care what you do, just have fun."

Jazz gave his commander an odd look, not for the orders, but the delivery. It wasn't normal and he had learned well to be wary of things that weren't normal.

"Then there is _that_," Whiplash jabbed a finger at the flat box on the desk about half of Jazz's arm length to each side but not even a palm with tall.

Jazz cocked his head at it with a curious trill, lifting it and finding it much lighter than expected for the size. He slid the lid away and then optics brightened when he saw the contents.

A dark, shining whip, the same shade as one of his mates' plating, was laid out diagonally, its multiple tassels spread out in a pattern, with shining diamond flecks that looked razor sharp inlaid into the bands and gold wire forming intricate patterns on the handle. Jazz lifted it, engines purring, and realized that _Saxo_ had been written in formal glyphwork around the base.

He turned and snapped, a quick test that revealed the balance, strength, and quality of the material, and his optics _shone_ as he turned back, grinning. "I think I'll enjoy breaking this in."

Whiplash groaned and rolled his optics. "Just get going, and for Primus's sake, try not to _flutter_ like that when you're working. _No one_ will be frightened by _that_ look."

Jazz just answered with a deliriously happy grin and nod before turning and all but dancing his way out, purring the entire time.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

For the first time in a long time, all three were in a hurry to get home, and Jazz made a point to take a break for the night early enough to be clean and home in time to jump Radiance and thank him, even if they couldn't admit, even between themselves, that they knew exactly who had gifted them the courtship presents and exactly how well they had been received.

"You look like you had a very good orn," Radiance laughed when he found himself with a lapful of purring mech, once Jazz had found them upstairs in the oil pool.

"Might have," Jazz said, grinning, nipping at his lover's lower lip. "Got to break in the prettiest whip today, handled like a dream."

Deep, powerful engines rumbled with pleasure. "No wonder you're in such a good mood," Radiance said, as Prowl moved to press behind Jazz, sandwiching him between their frames.

"So do you want to suggest the activity, or listen to what I thought of?" Prowl purred next to his audial.

Jazz hummed through the deep kiss that Radiance had pulled him into. "Who says we can't do both in a night?" he asked once he was released, and turned his head to claim another kiss from Prowl, enjoying the way the sight made Radiance _rev_ beneath him. "Tell us your idea."

"You on your back with me between your legs and your glossa pleasuring Radiance while he and I merge, all while hardlined," Prowl didn't hide how hot the idea made him, and the simultaneous engine roars he got in response told him his lovers enjoyed that plan just as much as he did.

"Though that would require moving," Jazz said, completely comfortable and enjoying his spread-legged position in Radiance's lap.

"That's true," Radiance agreed seriously. "I wouldn't want you to have to move if it was an inconvenience. So _you_," he wrapped his arms around Jazz's waist, lifted, moved him to the side, and stood up, "Can stay here as long as you feel like." He kissed the top of his mate's helm. "We will enjoy ourselves in berth."

Jazz just rolled his optics. "Oh, someone thinks he's a clever one," he teased, standing.

"Someone does," Radiance purred. "Especially since it seems to be working."

"Maybe I felt like moving anyway," Jazz hummed back, stretching, doorwings fluttering out with excitement, both from the events of the day and everything they were looking forward to for the night. The flare of Prowl's field against his back enhanced the pleasure of strong hands sliding along his sides as Prowl pressed close to kiss his neck.

"What is your idea, love?" Prowl purred deeply. "If we have the energy to keep going when I'm done with you."

"'If?'" Jazz asked, dipping down just enough to rub his frame back up along Prowl's. "If, says the Praxian who likes to remind me about his stamina." A single crook of his finger brought Radiance in front of him and he shimmied between the two, grinning. "I was thinking about coaxing my Praxians to pound me together, or maybe taking one of you with some help. Anything to get the three of us touching."

Prowl actually moaned at the first suggestion, then shuddered when the option continued to put him in the middle. "You're going to make me regret suggesting first."

"If I may?" Radiance rumbled, getting his lovers' attention. He reached around Jazz to settle his hands on Prowl's hips, then mag-locked against them and pulled, bringing his pelvis forward to press flush to Jazz's aft. "You know how much he loves being shameless for your spike," he purred. "And how much I love watching that. Yours could be a warm-up, before we take you together, before I merge with you..." Knowing dark fingers traveled up Prowl's chest, settling over his spark.

Prowl's vents stuttered and cycled rapidly at the very suggestion of merging while stretched by both his lovers. "Please," he gasped, trembling at the prospect.

"I think he likes that," Radiance said, grinning to Jazz, who pressed a deep kiss in response, reaching back to slide his frame along Prowl's once more.

"I think he does," Jazz agreed, plating already hot from excitement and the oil as all three headed inside for their berth. Jazz crawled on first, sliding his valve cover away as he did to give his lovers the best view possible before he rolled onto his back, spreading his legs open, holding an arm out to Prowl. "Please, lover."

"Anytime, my love," Prowl moaned, his spike pressurizing as rapidly as physically possible as he climbed onto the berth to cover Jazz, rubbing their oil-slick frames together as he kissed with all the passion and desire in him for the mech he had given up contentment and home for without hesitation.

Jazz arched up, pushing his hips against Prowl's, sliding his valve over the offered spike, before tilting his head back with an excited rev of his engines when fingers ghosted over the top of his helm, and then came down to grip the sides, holding his head in place.

Radiance leaned forward to claim an equally deep kiss from Prowl as his lovers had just shared, all of the amazement, gratitude, and love for his mates going unspoken but still clear through his field, which pulsed with an underlying, delirious joy that they could start taking the first steps towards making their union public, legal, and binding.

Gentle, firm hands pushed back and three frames moved together, familiar and eager, and Radiance moved forward, then purred at the first press of lips against his valve cover. "Know how much you like pleasuring your lovers," he hummed to Jazz, one finger under Prowl's chin, looking into the other Praxian's optics as his own visor lifted away.

"How much I love your optics," Prowl whispered and leaned in to kiss him deeply while he shifted to drive into Jazz's valve with a single thrust, filling and stretching all the way to the top sensor nodes and holding there briefly to revel in the way Jazz responded to the intrusion with pure enjoyment. "Love you, Radiance. I thank Primus every orn that you are with us."

Radiance grinned against the kiss. "I know," he said softly, then shivered at the hot x-vent between his legs that spread heat right through his systems. One more lick and the cover snapped away, opening his valve up to the eager glossa that immediately pressed up, timed with Prowl's first real drive into their lover, making all three of them moan in unison. "Love you," Radiance gasped, bracing himself against Prowl's shoulders as Jazz drew both legs up and back. "_Primus_ I love you!"

Prowl caught the lifting legs and brought them higher, angling forward to press against Radiance as his hips drove into Jazz. He opened his mouth to claim a kiss from the black mech, trying to hold off the tremors of his rapidly growing charge that Jazz was only making worse with the way he squeezed in around the familiar spike, actively seeking every favorite ridge and sensor, using a century's worth of knowledge to his advantage.

Radiance moaned against him, his own hips rocking slowly over the hot, pressing glossa, shivering every time Jazz swirled around the rim and then pressed in, rubbing lips to platelets as he hummed against his lover. When he broke away for long enough to look down and see the perfect view of Prowl buried inside their lover, his own spike cover slid back with a low, wanting rumble and he grabbed for Jazz's hand, lifting it up and pushing it against the extended length. "Please," he gasped, and shuddered when Jazz immediately wrapped fingers around, stroking.

Prowl rumbled and reached to join his fingers to Jazz's, working in flawless tandem to drive Radiance to the brink. With effort Prowl straightened himself. "Look, lover," he rumbled hotly, his hand still stroking that spike with Jazz, their fingers entwined and moving with the pounding pace Prowl set. "Watch us touch you. Watch me spread and fill him. It feels so good, the way he gets when he knows he's being watched."

Radiance managed to get optics to focus down on the visual of the contrasting colors of their fingers moving over the black and gold spike, his entire frame shaking from the mix of sensations, still finding himself shocked at how _fast_ these two could make him lose himself like this. "He must be molten around you," he moaned, shifting to focus on the wide V between Jazz's thighs, the way Prowl was disappearing into him. "And Primus I can feel him moaning for us, right through his glossa, how much he wants it. Watching you, Saxo," he gasped, then gave a strangled, static-laced groan at the way Jazz's fingers tightened and his glossa rubbed up hard and hot against him. "Watching him spike you."

Jazz bucked his hips in response, the charge in his valve skyrocketing in an instant at the next slide, while his thumb swirled over the tip of Radiance's spike on the next

"You make such a visual," Prowl picked up, his voice crackling with static. "The way you stroke his spike, your fingers with mine. I can see you work his valve, love. I can see the lubricant flowing down your faceplates. You're so hot, Saxo. So tight around me, the way your glossa is delving into him and making him moan. Oh, you are such a show. Both of you, moaning and wanting and so incredible to be with in every way," Prowl keened and bucked, driving into Jazz hard and deep as his charge rose to the breaking point. "_Saxooo!_" he howled, pumping slick, hot, crackling transfluid deep into his mate, setting off all the specialized sensors tuned to his overload.

The hand that was still resting against Radiance's hip tightened instantly as Jazz arched, writhing on his lover's spike as he sobbed in ecstasy into Radiance's valve, rewarded moments later by the way the dark frame seized above him, thighs clamping in around his head, as Radiance's cry joined theirs. He shot through his mates' fingers, onto their frames, shaking the entire time and grinding against Jazz's mouth, only to slump down, trembling, when it was all over, panting and leaning heavily against Prowl. Jazz hummed happily and continued to move his glossa through dripping platelets, making Radiance twitch with each gentle flick.

"Never tire of this, of being with both of you," Prowl mumbled, shivering as Jazz's valve continued to work his spike until he drew out. His voice dropped to a deep, husky rumble. "I want you both to take me, stretch me so wide, merge with me and share every bit of it with both of you. It feels unbelievable to be between you."

Engines revved in eager response to that as Radiance finally got his hips to unlock and he moved off Jazz, collapsing down on the berth next to him. "Come here and swallow me, keep me hot," he purred to Jazz as the younger mech lifted himself up, before shifting yellow optics over to Prowl. "I want to watch you while he does. Use your fingers to get yourself wet and ready for us to fill you."

Prowl shivered and shifted to kneel on his pedes, then leaned back with his legs spread wide to give a good view of his slick platelets and just how wet he already was. With his helm tipped up to watch Radiance and Jazz, he slid a finger along his valve opening to bring it to his lips, glistening with lubricant to lick off.

Radiance purred at the sight, then his optics flickered over to Jazz, who was staring, transfixed, and he reached out to gently turn Jazz's head back around towards him. "I believe I remembering telling you to do something," he rumbled, smirking a little as he lifted his hips in suggestion.

"So you did," Jazz said, trilling, and all too eagerly leaned forward to take his mate's spike into his mouth, pressing until lips met housing and holding there, swallowing as directed, field giving a bright burst of pleasure at the way Radiance gasped as soon as he hit the intake.

Radiance's head fell back and his hand rested on top of Jazz's helm as he steadied himself for a moment, then looked back up at Prowl. "So hot, lover, I can't wait to spill in you. Show me how easily we'll slide in."

"So very easy," Prowl rumbled, playing to Jazz's love of his voice before pressing three fingers into himself in a smooth slide that dragged a deep moan from him. "I'm so ready, always ready, always wanting you."

It took everything Radiance had not to move to pounce his lover just from that sight alone, and only his hand on the back of Jazz's helm kept him in place. "Keep going," he managed, cooling systems kicking up in an attempt to regulate his rapidly increasing temperature. "I want to be burning hot before I'm in you."

Jazz whined, half in protest and half in anticipation, and the sound made Radiance moan while he watched, gaze moving between Prowl's valve and the fingers stretching it open for display and their mate's optics, bright, fixed, focused. Prowl's mouth fell open as a fourth and fifth finger were added and he moved, panting, and when his hips pushed up into his own hand, Radiance's will crumbled. "Take him with me," he whispered to Jazz, who lifted his head, licked his lips, and then turned his eager gaze to Prowl.

"Here," Jazz purred, moving out of the way for Prowl to crawl over Radiance, who settled on his back, spike hard and nudging against the slick valve. Radiance pushed, slipping in easily, pressing deep, and then held for Jazz to move in behind and join him.

Jazz rested his hands on Prowl's hips, lifting, before sliding in, moaning deeply. This process had gotten easier over the vorns, more comfortable for all of them, but the fit was still intensely tight, forcing spikes to press together, stretching whoever happened to be in the middle.

Prowl could only gasp as he was held and shivered between them, now subject to whatever they chose to do. He was distantly aware of Jazz's hand reaching around front, tapping a charged cable against his interfacing port. It snapped open with an anticipatory quiver, Prowl's firewalls already lowering as he was plugged into.

The gasps from his partners came in the next moment as they finished making the hardline connections between all three, and then Radiance's processors came peripheral to his and Jazz's and all three held there, shivering together, reveling in the openness.

~Feels good, Prowler,~ Jazz moaned as soon as he regained enough of his senses to speak, rocking his hips back in a small motion, sliding his spike along Radiance's, making all of them shudder. ~Always so good inside you.~

~Yes,~ Prowl's reply was more moan than glyph, but the agreement was intense as he rippled and squeezed his valve around them.

~Jazz,~ Radiance breathed, back arching up, holding onto Prowl's shoulders. ~Open with us, I want to know our energy is in you when we overload.~ He caressed his lovers through the charged up hardline, and shuddered when he heard the sound of chest armor unlatching from behind Prowl.

No matter how many times he heard it, that sound would never, ever stop being an erotic one. His own locks opened and armor folded and tucked back, revealing a spark that was already pulsing in its chamber, eager to press forward. ~Prowl,~ he gasped, gazing at Prowl's near-white spark, strong and pulsing as the chamber slid forward and spiraled open. He moaned again, unable to keep entirely still as Jazz pushed against him.

~Please!~ Prowl keened, begging shamelessly for the merge and for the wave of pleasure that movement brought.

His lovers moved together to satisfy him, Jazz with his hips and Radiance with his chamber, open and lifted, reaching out with his spark to touch Prowl's in a brush of energy that was _so_ gentle but enough to make them both cry out.

Jazz stilled as the merge started, resting against Prowl's frame, forehead touching his back and hands running up and down his sides, hips, legs, anything he could touch, as the locks engaged. He could _feel_ their sparks joining through the hardline, was just as subject to the rush of light that flooded through them and made them keen for each other, could hear the echo of their songs. His lovers were intoxicating like this.

He let out a shuddering x-vent, barely moving his frame but for the small, pushing motions into the cycling valve, rubbing against Radiance, lost in the addictive colortaste of their merge. ~Radiance, Prowl,~ he moaned, reaching through the hardline.

~Love you. Jazz.~ Reached back in the mingled thought that was his triad. ~So good. Want you.~

~Have me,~ Jazz whispered, trembling with _want_. ~Love you want you _yours_.~

The connection was imperfect, meshing hardware with spark energy, but it worked as well as they could make it. Three awarenesses pushed together, brilliant and burning, giving and taking.

~Ours mine yours,~ Radiance's spark whispered back, surrounded by and surrounding Prowl, energy that swept and sparkled as it moved and caressed. ~Prowl, Jazz, belong, _always_ yours. _Prowl_,~ came the shuddering cry. ~My love, have you, have _me_.~

~Always yours. Belonged to you on first sight. Grew to love you. Three, perfect balance. Mine, yours, ours.~ Prowl gasped, his processors already being overridden by pleasure and energy he desperately wanted to share with them all, to be truly one being with three frames. ~Soon. Soon we will.~

~_Yes!_~ came the clear, resonating response, echoing through three frames that strained to unite and touch as deeply as they were able.

~The first moment we can,~ Radiance vowed, energy _surging_ out through them in agreement and promise, sending crackling hot charge racing through the hardlines, each frame amplifying and strengthening the current until it became a single, blinding loop.

~Feel your bliss,~ Jazz pleaded. ~Let me!~

Prowl could resist no command like that and his spark plunged down, enveloping and then being enveloped by the orb that was Radiance until they began a single, dense spark of glittering pale gold and the frames they powered screamed their bliss, crackling and oblivious to everything but the unity that was this moment.

Jazz's voice joined theirs an instant later as energy rushed in, around, through, filling his chest and swirling, pushing his frame into overload with his lovers', losing himself to the light of their sparks before he collapsed over Prowl, shaking and spent.

He felt a dazed brush against his processor, one that he returned, and very slowly, the joined sparks loosened and moved away. Slowly all three separated and slid to either side, bracketing Radiance's black form and sinking into a blissful recharge knowing that the next stage of their relationship had been successfully begun.

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Three vorns into the secret admirer gifts and Jazz had a nice little collection of weapons, vids, art, music and even professional lessons in acrobatics, all of which had something on display in his private office. Unlike the Enforcers, every agent got their own office immediately. It wasn't for work, though many used it as a quiet place for reports, but its real purpose was to be a space agents could be safe in. A private space to cry, scream, break down, recharge, self-service, laugh, or anything else that needed to be done in solitude. The walls were thick, sound proofed and there was no overt surveillance equipment to watch. It was a sanctuary. For Jazz, who hadn't needed it for anything more than a quick overload in vorns, it was now a showcase. He frequently left the door open so others could see what he'd been gifted. Those that could hang were tacked up outside on the hallway by his door.

Whiplash tolerated it with the explicit understanding that once the courting was over the showcase would be hidden behind closed doors. It was an unusual exhibition of normal society in their closed world, and it unsettled some agents to see it. For Jazz, it was something to remind him of why he continued to do this work, beyond just being good at it.

He'd been underground for almost a metacycle when he walked into his office, stretching his arms up over his head and cracking the joints in his neck, and almost missed the small box sitting on the desk.

It was a case, he realized as he looked closer, and when he lifted the lid, his spark fluttered with pleasure and he trilled, lifting out an energon dagger. When he turned it over, examining the quality and balance of the blade, he grinned. The formal glyphs of Radiance's designation were written along the edge, inlaid in shining gold. His own, or rather Saxo's, were inscribed on the other edge, and down the center, uniting them all in silver, was Pantera.

"About time," Whiplash grumbled from the doorway. "Though I have to give him credit for knowing you well and buying quality."

Jazz turned with a huge grin. "I was about to comm you. Is anything else going to get added to my docket, or can I leave after the next room?"

"No, you'll be useless with that grin you'll get after testing his new gift," Whiplash pretended offense. "You're due home time anyway."

Jazz purred deeply, turning the new weapon over a few more times, running a careful finger along the edges, before slipping it into subspace. "What grin?" he asked innocently, and sidled up to his trainer, mentor, and commander, and nipped a kiss from him. "I promise I won't look like I'm in love until I'm out of the room."

"Good," Whiplash sighed and shook his helm. "I cannot wait for you to bond and have this insanity be over with." His field told a different story, one of being rather smitten himself by the idea of someone actually going through with the old traditions and doing so with such care.

Jazz's optics glinted dangerously as he pulled the dagger again. "I can't wait to drive into that glitch's spark so I _can_ bond," he purred, then flashed Whiplash one more grin before heading off for the washracks so he could look presentable for his next assignment.

The commander of Imperial Special Operations simply shook his helm and put a little more focus on finding a way to get Vortex into one of these rooms.

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As Jazz was drawing his first line of energon with his gift, Prowl was finishing booking a speeder into holding. Once done, he headed back through the building for his desk, engines rumbling contentedly with the thrill of the chase, only to pitch down with pleasure when he spotted something waiting for him there.

He'd stopped being surprised by the gifts left for him, more pieces of the first puzzle box, each adding a new glyph into the display inside, the occasional artifact, usually part of Cybertron's intellectual history, and even some classic puzzles.

This box looked different from anything else he'd received yet, though. This could have been purchased at a store that sold games. Except as he picked it up and examined it, Prowl knew immediately that it hadn't been. He knew every title, company and producer of tactical games. He knew what was out and what was set for release and what was still in designing stages, and he instantly recognized this as being none of them.

He sat down and carefully examined the box, his fuel pump speeding up and engine revving sharply as he took in the producer, Flamewind Games. It was a one-mech company that had produced every one of his favorite diversions. Two additional designations were listed and his engine revved higher at the AI specialist and graphics designer. Near the bottom, in the place where the company logo would normally go, were the glyphs "Single Production Game for Pantera from Radiance."

Inside was a small chip, the kind designed for a single installation, with etching on the surface that only the recipient could request another copy from the manufacturer. Prowl lifted it, optics shining, when he heard a deep chuckle from behind.

"So your 'mystery' courter reveals himself," Mortar rumbled, clear pride and approval in his field. "I was supposed to make sure you saw that before you left but luckily for me you found yourself something to file a report about."

"He has quite outdone himself," Prowl's harmonics were actually giddy, something that drew more attention than his mystery gift. "These designers are some of the finest in the market and it is a one-copy game."

A groan escaped Fevor as he reached the desk. "I'll deal with the report. I know that field. You aren't going to pay attention to anything until you've beaten that sim into submission."

"Oh, he'll be done with that in time to do the report _and_ finish his shift," Mortar said, grinning fondly.

"I don't know, a couple of those other ones took him longer," Fever said, reaching across and stealing the datapad that Prowl had pulled out. "Go on, try it out, tell us how it is."

With a quiver of excitement Prowl slid the chip into a forearm port and accepted the download. His processor lit up with instructions, the game design and purpose. He didn't even notice that his frame was vibrating with his excitement, his field flicking his pleasure at anyone in range. It wasn't just a game. It was a randomized and adaptive tactical governing game. R&D, building cities, managing resources, keeping the citizens happy, negotiating with a dozen AI leaders selected from a list of thirty and waging war. It bore distinct similarities to many of his favorites, including the replayability factor, but customized to his quirks and interests.

A quick skim through the settings showed that he could set his own goals, be they financial, territorial, or anything else, leading to games that could be played for metacycles if the goals were ambiguous enough. The sheer number of settings, from the total population to the age and number of creations opposing leadership had, gave a computable but extraordinarily high number of possibilities. Adding in the AI that this programmer was so well known for, they almost became infinite.

Fevor's engines rumbled with fondness as the teek of Prowl's field became more and more excited. "Looks like that one's a success."

"Who is it from?" Mortar asked, knowing the answer perfectly well, but also knowing that with this gift, the mecha involved in this courtship could all publicly admit to it now.

"Radiance," Prowl purred deeply, his doorwings quivering as he continued to scroll through the immense set-up options, including a 'random' setting for most categories. "It's beyond a success. This took _planning_, too. Beyond getting them to agree, creating a new game typically takes vorns."

"He is not my SWAT chief without reason," Mortar chuckled deeply, clapping Prowl on the shoulder. "I think I speak for everyone when I say the entire precinct approves."

Fevor snorted. "Approves? We've been _waiting_ for it. Glad to officially hear he's the one behind everything."

"If he wasn't, we would be having _words_," Prowl chuckled, still quivering in excitement. "And I'd have to hunt someone down that knows me entirely too well."

Mortar laughed, loud and genuinely cheerful. "Congratulations, Pantera," he said, gave his shoulder one more squeeze, and headed to his office to leave Prowl to play with his new game in relative peace.

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The rest of the orn went quickly and quietly, giving Prowl plenty of time to fully explore just the setting options of his new tactical game and start a simulation that was still running in the back of his processors as he drove home. He was halfway there when he got the ping that Jazz was already there, and it took everything he had in him not to speed the rest of the way, not having seen Jazz in nearly a metacycle.

He realized with a pleased quiver that Radiance must have consulted with Whiplash and timed these particular gifts for a night when all three could be together, now that they could _finally_ admit among themselves who their courter was.

When he got inside, it took less than a klik to find his mates in the downstairs lounge that also served as the smaller library, but with a city view that the upstairs library was lacking. Jazz had Radiance pinned up against a wall and was kissing him deeply, and looked up, purring, as soon as Prowl entered, and held an arm out.

"I've solved our mystery," he said, grinning, taking a kiss from his mate before they both turned back to Radiance.

Radiance grinned back. "I still don't know what he's talking about," he told Prowl.

"Is that so?" Prowl grinned in an utterly feral manner and relaxed his grip on his field, flooding them both with just how _elated_ he was with his new game before he leaned in close to claim a heated kiss. "For some reason I got a new tactical game today. A singular production, and it had your designation on it as the provider."

Jazz hummed as he watched, hand sliding down Radiance's front. "That's an astonishing coincidence," he said, and his free hand was suddenly holding a dagger, one that he tapped lightly right under Radiance's throat, showing off the side that had their designations so artfully woven together. "Because I got _this_ today and it also has his designation on it. What do you think, my love?" he purred to Prowl. "I think he _might_ just be responsible for all those other gifts as well."

"I think he had better be, or we might just find a use for that blade," Prowl purred dangerously, and on a level he meant it. Even if it didn't mean using the blade on Radiance, but on the mech who was impersonating him with entirely too much success.

"I think we just might. Well?" Jazz asked, his own smile turning just as deadly as he spun just the tip against their lover's neck. "Out with it now, gorgeous one."

Radiance's engines _revved_ with excitement and he laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "All right, yes, it was me," he confessed to what they already all knew. "All of-"

He didn't make it the entire way through the sentence before Jazz was grabbing him in a kiss, deep and joyful, and one that lasted for just a few moments before the dark mech was being grabbed by Prowl for his own kiss, one that left all of their engines racing. They passed him back and forth for a few kliks before finally letting go to let him steady his vents, looking dazed, and _thrilled_.

"Think we'd better find a way to thank you," Jazz said, unable to stop grinning.

"What do you think of sucking him off together?" Prowl stage whispered in Jazz's audial. "As revved up as get gets watching us, I imagine he would get that much hotter watching us go down on him."

The answering engine roar, not from Jazz, combined with the sound of a spike panel snapping away, was enough of an answer, especially when combined with the way Jazz's grin turned downright _wicked_ as he looked back at Radiance, reaching down to brush his fingers along the extending length of his spike. "I imagine so," he whispered back, frame shaking with suppressed laughter, his field bright with an intoxicating joy as he sank down to his knees in unison with Prowl. He leaned in for a kiss, one hand wrapping around the gold-ringed spike, holding it while he slipped his glossa along Prowl's.

"Has he turned on the magnets while you've had him in your intake?" Prowl asked with a rumbling purr as he licked up that lovely spike in perfect tandem with Jazz.

Jazz pressed his lips around the tip, sliding off to meet Prowl for another kiss before they turned back, each x-venting hotly over the sculpted head, making Radiance moan. "He hasn't," he hummed, and pressed his thumb where his glossa had just been, looking up at Radiance, whose vents were already kicked up in pitch. "Holding out on me, lover?" he teased.

Radiance shook his head. "Not on purpose," he gasped, and moaned, hips pushing forward. "I will happily fix that oversight for you."

"It's intense," Prowl grinned, moving down to mouth the spike housing. "Makes your processor fuzzy in the best ways."

Jazz's lips quirked up in a curious smile before parting to let his glossa slip out to swirl around the tip, hot and wet, drawing a gasping cry and a sharp thrust forward against his mouth. "I'll leave you room," Jazz told his lover, who was using a mix of his glossa and fingers to stimulate the base of the dark spike, before he wrapped his lips around the tip and pushed, swallowing easily, stopping just short of taking the entire length in.

Hands came up to rest on Radiance's thighs for balance and Jazz swallowed, ripping his intake for a few moments before he heard the faint, electric hum of the magnet systems coming online, and the spike was physically pulled against him, creating a dizzying rush through his processors that made his intake spasm. They both moaned, Radiance's voice going up in pitch, his hands shooting down to grab each of their helms.

"It's intense," Prowl moaned, watching it happen to his lovers with overbright optics. "Not as good as in the valve, but oh so good."

Jazz could only whine his agreement, gripping Radiance's legs to hold himself steady in a world that was suddenly tilting in a completely unfamiliar, thrilling way. After a moment of trying to stabilize, and then giving up, he tried to swallow, and found he could move against the pull, slowly, and if the way Radiance cried out meant anything, this felt _amazing_ for his mate. He purred, pitching deep and rumbling right from his engines, and the answer was a _keen_.

"See love?" Prowl gave an answering rumble as he stole a half kiss from Jazz before returning to suck and lick the housing. "It's _amazing_."

"_Yes,_" Radiance moaned, his fingers clenching and unclenching on their heads, needing them just to stay upright, as he trembled, hydraulics in his legs whining with the effort to push deeper into the tight space, fighting his own magnets and the force they were exerting to keep him stuck to the intake. "Saxo!"

Jazz hummed, hands going up to his lover's hips and setting there, dipping beneath armor and playing along the tension cables with expert fingers that knew framework and how to coax any kind of feeling he wanted out from it better than most on the planet. He pulled his head back, slowly, the strange sensation of magnets tugging at his processors making him shiver while the resistance they created made Radiance moan, static starting to lace his voice.

Prowl followed up along the spike after his lover, using glossa and lips to attend to every exposed micron, purring deeply as the magnets started to pull at him as well, keeping everything slow and careful as they worked their mate's spike together.

"_Primus_, you two," Radiance gasped suddenly, and Jazz answered by pressing up with his glossa, massaging it against the underside of the spike nudging up against his intake, and that pulled a ragged, wanting cry as dark fingers clamped down on their helms and Radiance's entire frame shuddered with overload. Hot, crackling transfluid burst into Jazz's intake as powerful magnets in the hand on his helm made his processor go just as fuzzy as an overload. Next to him Prowl moaned, deep and pleased, as the potent palm magnet scrambled his processors, slowing everything down and injecting the same kind of euphoria as a powerful overload without the physical strain.

When Radiance finally came back to himself, he found he was bracing his entire weight against his lovers, magnetized palms keeping them held in place. With a thought, he flicked the entire system off and they both shivered, then Jazz drew off his spike and grinned, looking up with transfluid dripping down his chin and a field that was almost giddy, though it was nothing like the euphoric rush that was coming off of Prowl. It came in heavy waves as his far more delicately balanced and powerful processors, so central to his very purpose in being, unscrambled themselves more slowly.

"You're right," Jazz purred, static-laced as much as Radiance had been. "That is a rush."

"Palm is even better," Prowl mumbled, dazed and quite content to remain that way for the moment.

Radiance chuckled and slid down the wall to be at the same height as his lovers, running his fingers down the side of Prowl's face and tipping the mech's face up towards him as Prowl rubbed affectionately against his palm, and grinned at the unfocused optics. "Love the way that makes you go all fuzzy," he purred, and leaned in to nip at his lower lip. "Imagine if I caught you between my spike and my hand."

Prowl's entire frame shuddered with a surge of _want_ enough to make his lovers groan. Prowl's glossa slipped out to lick at Radiance's wrist, playful and desirous.

Radiance purred back, equally playful, as Jazz wrapped his arms around him and tugged, biting at his lover's neck, engines hot and racing from the processor buzz and a metacycle of being away from his mates.

"Secret... admirer... not so secret... anymore," Jazz said between nips, before biting down hard enough to make Radiance jump, then twist and tackle his heated mate onto his back, pinning him down with a sharp rev.

Jazz grinned back, unrepentant, and squirmed. "Think we should break you in as our official courter," he purred. "See if you're up to the task."

"You know I'm up to the task," Radiance rumbled, and then couldn't keep himself from grinning back, and then laughing when Jazz grabbed him down into a kiss, his other hand reaching out to grab Prowl and tug him down when Prowl seemed content to simply watch them.

"You're Praxian, but we should test," Prowl kissed each of them, then nuzzled against Jazz's neck as he shamelessly rubbed his frame along his lover's. "Give you a full workout, make sure we're all compatible."

"Yes please," Jazz trilled, then yelped with surprise when Radiance slipped a hand over his spike cover and magnetized against it, rubbing, almost pulling the concealed spike out as soon as the cover was gone. Jazz's hips bucked up and he groaned, arching, before Radiance drew his hand away with a teasing grin.

"Berth, perhaps?" he suggested, trying not to laugh at the look Jazz was giving him, and then it was his turn to get tackled onto his back, before Prowl moved in and grabbed Jazz around the middle, growling deeply and playfully.

"Berth, yes," Prowl rumbled, before Jazz twisted to kiss him and Radiance somehow managed to get up onto his pedes, bringing the other two with him, before all three made their laughing, stumbling way upstairs to tumble into their berth to investigate as many ways to interface as they could before collapsing.

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It was another ninety vorns before Radiance casually asked his lovers if they would like to meet him during one of their upcoming free orns to walk the paths of the Helix gardens, a request that they had all been eagerly looking forward to. As always, it was on the very first orn plausible between social expectations and their schedules, so all three and their respective social circles knew what that casual offer really was and why all three were amped up.

The previous gifts of courtship had all been in relatively private settings, environments with mecha close to Prowl and Jazz or left in the grand home that Prowl had bought for them, but nothing nearly as public as this. They socialized in public, but never gave gifts face to face. This gift, offered personally and publicly, and in a location where the courtees could walk away and end the courtship with no questions asked, was the final step of the opening phase. Their public acceptance would indicate a serious interest in continuing, and the burden of courting would shift to both sides.

That orn could not come soon enough for any of them, and had already had to be rescheduled twice after both Prowl and Radiance got caught up in Enforcer duties. This time, while Radiance had been delayed, he promised that he would only be a few breems late and that they should enjoy the walk until he caught up. He found it a little odd, but he knew how much his lovers enjoyed seeing him straight from field work with a bit of soot or ozone clinging to him, and wouldn't need to wash.

So late in the evening, after most had had their energon and were enjoying the fading light and the glow of the crystals, Jazz and Prowl walked arm in arm, leaning together with their doorwing overlapping, the picture of a contented couple and one that drew a few smiles from strangers, and not-so-strangers to see.

"May I join you?" came the sudden soft request from behind, spoken by a dark mech with properly canted wings and ritual-laced subharmonics, leaving no doubt that this was a formal request made by an interested, and serious, suitor. Radiance stood several paces back, far enough that he could still be considered to not be with them if they declined, holding his arm out and looking slightly worse for wear, with his carefully applied finish from earlier now dulled and scratched in places, but still as beautiful as ever to his mates.

The scene had the immediate attention of everyone in range, every conversation quieted and steps halted to watch. Though this was a moment between the three mechs, it was still socially expected that everyone who could witness it would stop and do so. As many traditions that had fallen to the wayside, this one was still firmly entrenched in every strata of Praxian society.

Prowl turned to face Radiance and took his public role as the dominant member of his pairing. With a warm, welcoming smile that left no doubt to the honesty of his actions, he extended his hand in welcome and greeting, palm up for peace. "We would be pleased if you would."

"I am honored," Radiance answered, placing his palm over Prowl's, with a truly grateful dip of his wings before he turned to Jazz, smiling. "And truly blessed. Thank you." He fell in step with them on the other side of Prowl and they began walking again, moving at the same slow pace, in companionable silence, getting knowing smiles from everyone they passed.

After enough time had passed, Radiance put his hand on Prowl's arm, guiding them to the side of the path. Again all who noticed paused to witness, to fulfill one of the happier rolls of society, and the three involved were alive with energy. Despite how well they all knew how the offer would be answered, in this moment the weight of the ritual set in and swept them up in nervous excitement.

Dipping his doorwings down in submission and acceptance of their absolute authority in the moment, Radiance drew two rectangular plates. Each was engraved with a sequence of glyphs beginning with Pantera or Saxo and ending with Radiance. Between the formal designations was the address of his home and the statement that the mecha listed above were authorized all use of it as their own.

"Will you accept the key to my home, so it may be our home?" Radiance asked, his voice trembling faintly with the weight of the moment and all it implied.

Despite how long he'd had the codes to that residence, Prowl still drew in a sharp vent as his optics brightened. He reached out and placed his hand over the plate with his designation on it, claws warm against Radiance's metal skin for a moment and held there, the gift between them, warming.

"Yes, Radiance. I would make my home with you."

Radiance fought against the surge of excitement that went through him, managing to get it down to just a quick flutter in his wings before looking to Jazz. Each partner needed to accept on his own.

Jazz smiled back, covering the other plate with his palm. "I would happily make my home with you, Radiance."

Joyful, celebratory trills sounded out from the witnesses around them, mecha who were all grinning, delighted for the chance to observe the courting ritual, and Radiance barely heard any of it as he stepped forward into the tight embrace of his lovers. A moment later, the trills switched to encouraging whistles and Radiance laughed in true, honest bliss as he gave in and turned first to claim his rightful kiss from Prowl, and then from Jazz, to the cheers of everyone watching.

Ritual completed, traffic along the paths slowly began to move again, leaving the forming triad to themselves where they stood huddled off to the side.

"Thank you," Radiance said, a hand on each of their necks, looking between them. "Thank you for letting me into your lives."

"We love you, how could we not?" Jazz answered him, and then looked to Prowl. "We have something for you."

"It's not part of any ritual, simply a gift that timed out like this," Prowl smiled, claimed another kiss that went on until Radiance's optics flickered off with a soft moan. When Prowl draw away and Radiance looked at the pair again, two visors, one a rich yellow that matched his own, the other a familiar bright blue looked back at him over one smile and one huge grin.

"Oh, Primus," Radiance breathed, his own visor brightening with excitement as he reached up to brush his fingers over each of them in turn. "Oh, wow. I knew visors would suit you, you look amazing!" He grinned, wings quivering. "Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but did you _really_ have to give me this gift in public?" he purred with a suggestive rev, unable to hide how much the aesthetic on his mates turned him on.

Prowl leaned forward to kiss him, field licking along Radiance's to give no doubt he intended to enjoy that mood. "Perhaps not, but I do know how much you enjoy denial games. Perhaps when we get home we'll indulge you. Or perhaps we'll make sure all our new markings are painted and sealed before you can touch for pleasure."

Radiance shivered and Jazz purred. "We start tonight?" Jazz asked, eager subharmonics in his voice.

"We start tonight," Radiance said, just as excited. "Home?"

"Home," Prowl rumbled.


End file.
